Crossing Borders
by A Winter Dreamer
Summary: Exhausted with trying to protect his King and country, Queen of Spades Arthur Kirkland is infuriated and shocked when King Alfred traps him and sends him away to a foreign land. But he soon meets a man who looks just like Alfred in a country called America, and this Alfred realizes that the Arthur he loves has been unwittingly sent to Spades, at the mercy of the coldhearted King...
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! This is my first Cardverse story, so I was really excited about writing this! I hope you enjoy the first chapter, and please don't forget to review!_

* * *

 _In the Kingdom of Spades._

Crimson blood dripped from the corner of the Queen's mouth as he glared up at the King, his eyes hurt and livid.

"Is this some sort of joke?" he spat, his arms bound tightly behind him. He had been forced to his knees by two cloaked figures with startlingly different heights who stood a couple of feet behind him warily. Arthur cursed, wincing as he felt the magic within him weaken once more. Whatever magic was left, anyway.

Alfred gazed down at him coolly, masking any emotion he might have been feeling. They were in a darkly lit, empty room with a magic circle drawn in the center. Arthur was in the center of the circle, while Alfred stood outside of it, looking down at him with slightly narrowed eyes.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!" Arthur demanded again, irritated at Alfred's silence, his voice hoarse as he struggled against the two restraining him. But their grips were like iron.

Alfred frowned. A crack. He could see pain in Alfred's eyes. Even sadness. Of course, Arthur could be imagining it all. For he knew that this was no longer the Alfred he grown to love.

"Respond, you dolt! What is the meaning of this?"

Arthur looked down suddenly, trying to remember everything clearly. He had been in his study as always when two black figures broke through the windows and restrained him. He was kidnapped somewhere, but he struggled as best he could. He realized the handcuffs restrained his magic, and they had put a bag over his head so he couldn't see anything. He tried sensing where he was, but he found he couldn't. And suddenly, he was in this room, on his knees in the middle of a magic circle.

With Alfred standing in front of him, unharmed.

"Was there a need to kidnap your Queen? Getting so busy that you needed _me_ to come see _you_?" Arthur taunted, struggling to make sense of the situation.

"You know why you're here, Arthur. I've warned you so many times."

It was unlike Alfred, this cold, detached tone. Each word was perfectly enunciated, carefully chosen...nothing like Alfred's usual rushed babble, his strange, free way of speaking that Arthur had given up trying to correct.

It was a tone that held no love for Arthur anymore, a tone that cared for nothing.

Arthur's heart thundered in his chest.

"No, I'm afraid I don't. You'll have to elaborate."

"I told you, so many times," Alfred repeated, his voice low. "You never heed my warnings -"

"And for good reason, you twat! In fact, I do have somewhere to be right now, so I'd appreciate it if you'd stop playing these games and remove these handcuffs -"

"No, Arthur," Alfred said, his eyes darkening. "I will not."

Arthur opened his mouth in shock.

" _Excuse_ me?"

"Get out of this country, Arthur."

" _What_? Are you out of your bloody mind? With the borders constantly threatened and the economy in shambles, there's no way I can -"

"It's...it's for your own...good," Alfred managed, and Arthur could tell his voice was breaking slightly.

"Alfred," he said, worried now. His voice softened. "What's going on? I...you...you don't understand, he's...they're..."

"Enough of _them_ , Arthur! What about _you_?"

Arthur blinked.

"It's...it's all because of _you_..."

"What are you blathering on about? What do I have to be accused of? Alfred, I -"

"Enough," Alfred said, and his eyes looked black in the poor lighting. "Goodbye, Arthur."

"What are you -!"

He was surrounded by a blinding light.

And then, all was dark.

* * *

 _Present Day, United States._

"I _told_ you to stop leaving your clothes around everywhere. Honestly, how long have we shared this -"

"Haha! I only do that because I know you're there to pick them up."

Arthur's mouth twitched.

"I'm going to leave you one of these days."

Alfred's mouth dropped open in shock, enough for him to pause his video game and turn around to face Arthur, a hurt look on his face.

"What?! I was just kidding! You _know_ I don't do it on purpose! You can't do that!"

Arthur smirked.

"I might. I'm free to go whenever I please."

"Arthur..."

Arthur sighed as he bent down and kissed Alfred lightly on the cheek.

"Kidding, love. I thought you wanted to go out to eat?"

"Yeah, I wanted to check out this new burger -"

Arthur cut him off with a harsh glare, and Alfred raised his hands in defense, a small smile on his face.

"Ha..ha...I meant, um...a great...new Japanese place! You know, sushi?"

"Oh. That doesn't sound too bad, actually."

"I know, right? Lemme take a shower really quickly!"

Alfred jumped up, and suddenly he was right in front of Arthur with an eager expression on his face.

Arthur blushed slightly.

"W-What is it? Do I have something on my face?"

"You know that I love you, right?"

Arthur blushed deeply this time, turning away.

"S-Shut up, you git."

Alfred grinned as he raised Arthur's chin up and kissed him.

"Alfred!" Arthur protested, his eyes wide.

"Mm-hmm?"

"Go have your shower, idiot."

"Got it."

Alfred hummed to himself as he walked to the bathroom. He suddenly turned around, a mischievous grin on his face.

"You sure you don't wanna join me?"

He took a pillow attacking his face as a no.

* * *

Arthur sighed as he lounged on the bed, looking at the floor with disdain. There was the stain from when Alfred spilled a Coke, and there was the mark from when a cat suddenly got into their room and left a mess, and _there_ was the mark from when...

Arthur rolled over on the bed, looking at the ceiling.

Two years. Two years he'd spent with Alfred, with all the lovely, crazy, absurd moments that came with them...

He began to drift off slowly, lulled into a drowsy state by the sound of the shower running.

He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh.

Voices.

He suddenly heard voices, insistent, calling at him...

 _thur...Arthur..._

 _...rry..._

 _...fe...ve..._

He groaned, frowning in his sleep.

He couldn't understand what they were saying.

"mmm..."

He suddenly saw a blinding light from behind his eyelids, and all was dark.

* * *

 _Present day, United States._

"Al -!"

Arthur opened his eyes, sitting up quickly, but he suddenly fell silent.

He blinked several times to make sure he was fully awake.

Where...where on earth _was_ he?

"What..." he began, shocked as he looked around.

He seemed to be in some sort of well-lit room, and there were two rather plain beds with some sort of large metal box against one wall. The walls were painted a light tan color in an effort at simplicity, and the floor seemed to be made of some sort of furry carpet.

He found himself sitting on the bed, his clothes and his hat still intact. He quickly rummaged in his jacket, and was relieved to find his clock inside.

"I..."

His hands roamed across the bed. It was extremely soft.

But the architecture was different. _Too_ different. He didn't know where he was, but he knew that Alfred had sent him somewhere. But this didn't seem like anywhere in the palace, or a commoner's home...

Could he be in Hearts? He had heard they had certain styles of rooms such as these, but...but it was far too angular for it to be a Hearts home.

And far too simple.

He stood up carefully, and he noticed a sound from the other side of the wall to his left.

Almost...almost a turning sound. A squeaking sound, like rusty gears would make.

He decided he would have to confront whatever sort of person or creature was coming for him.

And then he would make his way back to Spades and talk to Alfred.

Pain tugged at his heart, and suddenly he had a headache and his eyes felt watery.

Alfred.

 _Alfred_ , who had sent him away, who had treated him as though he were a burden...

But it was all...all of it, it was...

Frustration welled up as he tried to make sense of everything. But he just couldn't fit the puzzle pieces together. Why would Alfred...

He heard footsteps suddenly, and he tensed as he waited, his hand stretched in front of him with his palm outwards as he quickly stood up from the bed.

"Yo, Arthur, sorry I -"

Arthur froze.

As the man came into full view, Arthur couldn't believe his eyes.

His voice, his appearance...

It was Alfred.

" _You_ ," Arthur growled, his eyebrows furrowed as he launched at Alfred.

"W-Whoa, what are -"

Arthur tackled him to the ground, and Alfred grunted as he fell, his back hitting the floor and his eyes opening wide with confusion.

"W-What the _hell,_ man? I didn't take that long! And what are you even _wearing_?"

"Silence," Arthur hissed, his face inches from Alfred. "Where are we? How dare you -" His eyes widened as he leaned back, sitting on Alfred's stomach as Alfred stared up at him in shock.

"Wha...but..." Arthur leaned down again, gazing at Alfred intensely. "You..."

He gazed deeply into Alfred's eyes, and while they were the same as normal, the tiny Spades symbol in his left eye was missing. To any normal person, it was so small as to escape attention, but Royals were trained to recognize the symbol that other Royals shared.

"A-Arthur, are you okay?" Alfred began, his voice wavering slightly. "Uh, also, your clothes are...I mean, not that they're not charming, but I don't think you can go out like that..."

"You don't...the mark..." Arthur leaned even closer, and Alfred grinned as he suddenly reached up and kissed Arthur lightly on the lips.

Arthur yelped and jumped backwards, clambering off of Alfred while covering his mouth with his hand.

"How _dare_ you even...after all that you did, do you think a simple _kiss_ will suffice? Where's your bloody mark, and where are we?" Arthur demanded angrily, his eyes alight with fury.

"W-Whoa," Alfred began, standing up and dusting himself off. "Okay, first, it was _just_ a shower. I don't know what happened from the time I left to the time I came back, but, uh..."

"What are you blathering about? Where are we?" Arthur questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you look absolutely _ridiculous_ in those...whatever you want to call those."

"Uh, okay, first, if we're talking about weird clothes I think that _you_ win that contest. What's with that huge blue jacket thing and hat and big ribbon?" Alfred asked, slightly hurt.

"It's my uniform, you stupid -" Arthur suddenly frowned.

"You...what is your name?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

"Uh..." Alfred stared at him, his eyes wide. "It's...Alfred? Arthur, this really isn't a good joke, I said I was sorry -"

"Liar," Arthur growled, rushing over to him until they were inches apart. "Who are you? You aren't Alfred."

"Pretty sure I am, though," Alfred said, frowning. "Hey, did you hit your head or something?"

" _You're_ the one who hired two men to kidnap me and you're telling _me_ I hit my head? Your mark! You...you don't have the Spade brand."

"The _what_?"

"Look in the mirror! Your left eye, there's no..."

Arthur frowned.

"Wait...where are we?"

"The...apartment?"

"You fool. What year is this? What country? Hearts?"

Alfred stared at him, his mouth open. "Uh...America?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "And where is America? Have you heard of Spades?"

"Uh...okay, wait, why are you naming card suits?"

Arthur's eyes widened, and he shrunk back a bit.

"But...that doesn't make sense, how could...unless..." Arthur reached into his jacket quickly, drawing out his clock.

The second hand was moving normally, but the hour hand was spinning and the minute hand was spinning in the opposite direction.

"Oh, no..."

Arthur shook the clock futilely, biting his lip. "No, no, no..."

"Hey, where did you get that? Uh...are you okay?" Alfred asked tentatively, moving over to him.

Arthur stepped back, glaring at Alfred. "Don't touch me. How dare you impersonate the King and take his name! I'll have you executed, just you wait."

Alfred gaped at him. "What the _hell_ , Arthur? What are you even talking about?"

"Silence. I will not have you talk back to me, not until I can figure out where we are exactly and how to get back. Now, where did you say we were?"

* * *

 _In the Kingdom of Spades._

"mm...hm? Where..."

Arthur groaned as he sat up, feeling groggy and dizzy. He was someplace dark, but his eyes were having trouble adjusting to the light. He was on the ground for some reason, even though he remembered falling asleep on Alfred's bed...

He felt a sudden, throbbing pain on the right side of his chin. His hand instantly went up to his face, and he felt that the skin there was somewhat wet and painfully raw. As he looked down at his hand and his eyes began to adjust, he saw that it was dark.

 _Blood?_

Arthur's eyes shot up to study the room, and he saw a figure just about to leave through the doorway.

"Who's there?" Arthur called without thinking, and the figure instantly turned around.

He heard the person gasp and rush over to him.

Is that...he couldn't see, but it had to be...

"Oh, Alfred, is that you? Blimey, I fell asleep...err, where are we again? And...Christ, what are you _wearing_?"

He looked up at Alfred, who was wearing a rather long jacket with two spades symbols on the front. He seemed to be wearing some sort of jacket-vest underneath, although it was hard to tell. The style was quite refined, and while Arthur actually quite liked it, it was...strange.

Not that it didn't suit Alfred. It suited him surprisingly well...

Arthur berated himself inwardly. It wasn't the time for that.

Alfred stared down at him in shock, his eyes wide. "A...Ar...thur?"

"Y-Yes, it's me...where are we?" Arthur asked, slightly worried. He frowned slightly as he dusted himself off. "It's awfully dark in here, and -"

Suddenly, Alfred dragged him up by his collar to a standing position, and Arthur winced as his hands gripped Alfred's wrist that was holding him up.

"A-Alfred! What are you -"

"How...how did you..." Alfred frowned, his face cast in shadows as he studied Arthur, his eyes hard. He gripped Arthur's collar tightly, and panic began to settle in the pit of Arthur's stomach.

It was strange. Too strange. Alfred would never...Arthur knew Alfred was strong, but he'd never treat Arthur like this. He was always smiling, always cheerful, always kind...

Suddenly, Alfred's eyes widened, and he quickly let go of Arthur as if he were burned, taking a couple steps away.

"Alfred...what..." Arthur let his voice trail off, staring at Alfred worriedly. "What are you..."

He was too confused to be shocked or indignant at his treatment.

"Who are you?" Alfred murmured, almost as if he were addressing Arthur. He suddenly looked up, frowning at Arthur. "You don't have the brand, but...but I swore we sent him away..." He looked up at Arthur, his eyes narrowed. "And you talk differently...you're a bit shorter...who _are_ you?"

Arthur's heartbeat sped up as he frowned. "If this is a joke, I don't find it funny, Alfred."

"I asked you who you were," Alfred said, his voice cold. He sounded different. "I will not ask again."

"Of course I'm _Arthur_ , you fool! Now, will you please tell me what's happening?"

Alfred looked taken aback.

"But...you..that can't -"

"Where are we?" Arthur interrupted insistently, crossing his arms over his chest. "The last thing I remember was falling asleep in our room. Where have you taken me?"

"What room?" Alfred asked, frowning. "I thought you were in the study."

His voice was too distant, too deep to be Alfred's. Arthur frowned as Alfred fell silent again. "We don't...have a study, Alfred...you went for a shower -"

"Do you know where you are?"

Arthur groaned. "That's what I've been trying to ask _you_ , you twat. Where are we?"

Alfred's eyes widened, and Arthur thought he saw a flash of pain cross his face.

"We are in the land of Spades," Alfred said carefully. "You...you know Spades, yes?"

Arthur frowned.

"What are you on about? The symbol? That doesn't answer my question."

Alfred's eyes widened.

"You don't know of Spades? And you don't have the mark...but...but that's impossible..."

"Look, Alfred, I'm not sure if this is one of those roleplaying events that you're always going on about with Kiku, but I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know so I can leave," Arthur sighed, walking towards Alfred and the door. "Come on, now. Out with it."

Alfred stood his ground, frowning down at Arthur. Arthur stared at him.

"Are you...have you grown taller? Why is...I _really_ must have hit my head," Arthur frowned, slightly taken aback.

"You aren't Arthur," Alfred said finally, his voice dark. "You...he's gone. You're not him."

Arthur sighed. "Then who am I, Alfred?" he questioned sarcastically.

"I don't know. You should know," Alfred said, frowning again.

"Enough, Alfred. You're irritating me. And if you're going to continue this nonsense then I'm leaving," he said, stepping past Alfred towards the door.

He didn't know why Alfred was choosing now of all times to be confusing and infuriating, so he decided it was just best to deal with him later.

But he didn't have the chance to leave, as Alfred quickly sidestepped, blocking his path once again.

"Guards," Alfred called suddenly, his voice booming.

A couple of men shuffled into the room, their armor clanking as they stopped by Alfred's side.

"Yes, your Highness?"

"Your Highness?" Arthur snorted. "What kind of game is this?"

The guards stared at Arthur with their mouths open.

"My King," one of the guards began, his eyes wide. "I-I was told..."

"This is an imposter," Alfred said coldly, his eyes narrowed. It was an expression Arthur had never seen on Alfred before, and he stepped back unconsciously, worry tugging at his heart. "Impersonating the Queen. Lock him up."

"A-Alfred, what are you - mmph!"

Two guards yanked his arms behind him as he was gagged, and his eyes shot up to Alfred's in shock.

Whatever this was, it was no game. It _hurt_ , his arms were in pain, and he was being forced from the dark room by the two 'guards,' or whatever Alfred had called them.

"mmfre! mmfre!" Arthur struggled to call him, but he couldn't form the words with the gag.

Panicked, he tried to turn his head to see him, but the guards forced him to walk with his face forward, down the dark path.

 _What on earth was going on?_


	2. Chapter 2

_And here is the second chapter!_

 _Please don't forget to review!_

* * *

 _Present day, United States._

"Uh...Arthur..."

"I _told_ you to stop distracting me."

"I know, but...look, I don't really get what's happening, but I don't think that messing with that clock of yours is going to change anything."

Arthur looked up at him, glaring. "I don't need _you_ to tell me that. Something...something is wrong with this area. It's not..."

"I think it's broken," Alfred offered, sitting down next to Arthur on the bed. Arthur unconsciously moved over slightly, his eyes locked on Alfred's warily.

Alfred held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I don't bite."

Arthur sighed, looking down at his clock again.

The second hand was working, but the minute and hour hands were spinning in opposite directions. It didn't make sense. His clock had never acted in such a way before, and he knew he didn't have enough strength or magic left to fix it. Was it truly broken, or was it trying to tell him something? It was said that even in the most difficult of wars, the clocks never failed the royals of Spades.

But...but in another land, another world, even, was it possible that the magic within Spades could fade?

He had interrogated the fake Alfred, but he had only managed to find out he was in some land called "America" and that the inhabitants had never heard of Spades.

How far did that asshole _send_ him, anyway? He was the bloody Queen, not some Number to be removed at the King's convenience! And especially with how Spades' royalty was so interconnected, losing the Queen would risk...

And everything...everything he did, all those nights he spent away from the castle...after everything, _this_ was how Alfred repaid him?

But worst of all - if Arthur was gone, not only would the land itself be in trouble, but also there was no more barrier between the people and the King.

The assassins who were after the King's life had no more fence to leap over, and it was the King's own fault.

If Alfred didn't want Arthur as his Queen anymore - Arthur's heart twinged painfully at the thought, and he tried not to think about it - then that couldn't be helped. They'd have to get along for the sake of the Kingdom, but...but Arthur couldn't expect him to love him.

If he _had_ ever loved him.

It was never really required, anyway. The King and Queen were chosen separately, and it wasn't as if the royalty of Spades normally got married in a romantic sense. That was true for all four Kingdoms - it was well known that the King and Queen of Hearts, most ironically, were not in love with each other but worked exceedingly well together. It was rumored that the King was in love with his Ace, but alas, rumors were rumors and Arthur had stopped caring at that point.

As much as Arthur hated the thought of Alfred's cold treatment from now onwards, he knew that he had a duty to his King. He needed to get back as soon as possible to uphold the balance of the land and protect Alfred.

He was foolish, for loving Alfred as much as he did. And this was the price of his foolishness - cast away and being stuck in an unfamiliar land with Alfred's doppelganger.

"You okay?" Alfred asked softly, gazing at Arthur. "You seem kinda..."

"Kind of _what_? I'm busy, so make it quick."

"Yeah. Busy shaking a clock around? Come on. Look, I don't know...I don't know what to tell you. I mean, I'd tell you to quit the act but you kind of seem serious, so...so, whatever it is that you're doing, I'll help you. What's the issue?"

Arthur blinked. "I am not acting. As I have told you before, I am the Queen of the land of Spades and I need to return as soon as possible."

"Uh...okay. But first of all, you're a _guy_. Wouldn't you be King, if anything?"

Arthur groaned. "Have I not explained this to you already, Alfred? The titles of the kingdom have nothing to do with gender. They are simply monikers. In Spades, the Queen tends to have an extraordinary, unique type of magic tied to the land, while the King has more elemental magic."

"But Queen just implies that it's a girl! Can't you _both_ be kings?"

"There's only one king who can rule a kingdom, Alfred. Honestly..." Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to remove his hat, but he refused to do so with Alfred in the room.

"Okay, so, uh...how do we get back to Spades?"

"That's what I want to know. I know you showed me a map before, but clearly it's incomplete, or I am much farther away than I expected."

"There's no Spades on Earth," Alfred said, frowning slightly. "The world's pretty much been mapped out already."

"Well, that's debatable," Arthur mused, frowning. "The lands to the West are still largely unknown, due to bad temperatures and weather."

"Arthur, uh...so where is Spades supposed to be?" Alfred whispered, leaning closer. Arthur frowned.

"What do you mean, 'supposed' to be?"

"You know, for the game. Or roleplay, or whatever. Where do you want Spades to be?"

Arthur shot Alfred a murderous glare before standing up abruptly, scowling down at him.

"Are you mocking me, Alfred? Is this all a _game_ to you? You seem to think you know me - and I do not know how you knew my name in the first place - but this is the first time I have met you, and believe me, this introduction was not a pleasurable one. If you truly have no intent to help me, then I will find Spades on my own. I do not need your assistance."

Arthur straightened out his coat angrily, and Alfred quickly stood up, a worried frown on his face.

"H-Hey, Arthur, I really...I don't know how to deal with this, I don't even know where this is coming from..."

Leave it to Alfred to send him to the most infuriating place and having to deal with his look-alike on top of everything!

Wait...

Arthur froze, blinking, and he suddenly looked up at Alfred. Alfred paused as well, confused.

It was impossible. It was ridiculous. But...but somehow, it was the only possibility that made sense.

"You...before you came out of that room and saw me," Arthur began hesitantly, "Did you...did you know a man named Arthur?"

"Yeah," Alfred began, a small smile on his face. "Uh...he's you? He looks exactly like you. Um...but now that you mention it, maybe a bit shorter?"

Arthur shut his eyes, trying to think.

The spell. The circle. Sending him away.

It _should_ have only sent him away to a far away land. That was surely the intent of the spell, from what Alfred had told him.

 _The clock_.

The clock, of course it was the bloody clock!

Arthur's eyes widened as he realized his situation. He had the clock inside his jacket when they had captured him. Of course, they hadn't taken the clock. It was linked to Arthur as much as it was to the King. Non-royals had no place touching it. But...but the clock was supposed to lead him to Alfred in times of distress. It always did.

And it had done so, again.

Except, it had led him to a different Alfred, in a different land.

It was impossible...in all of his studies, he'd never read anything like it.

Somehow, defying everything, the clock had done its job and led him to the Alfred of another world, of another time.

Meaning that...

"Oh..."

Alfred looked up at him.

"Your Arthur..."

Of course, there couldn't be two of one person in the same world. It was a paradox, something that couldn't be allowed.

So, the Arthur that this Alfred knew was most likely in Spades right now.

With the King.

Arthur groaned before looking up at Alfred. "Alfred...I think I've figured out what happened."

* * *

" _What_? So, you switched places with _my_ Arthur, and now he's in some weird land with a psychopathic King who looks like me? Oh my God, is he gonna be okay?"

"He's not a psychopath!" Arthur quipped, frowning. "H-He's..."

"Didn't he kidnap you and send you away even though you're the Queen?"

"Well, yes..."

"Dude, why do you even want to go back there? And is Arthur going to be okay?"

"Do not address me as 'dude.'"

"Sorry. Is Your Highness okay?" Alfred joked, winking.

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"Arthur is fine."

"Got it, Arthur."

"Regardless, I must go back. Spades is in turmoil, the economy is a mess, and we've had to quash revolts in the countryside. There have been group after group of assassins after the King's life, and I..." Arthur looked down. "I have tried my best for the past year or so to deal with it behind the King's back." He coughed, clearing his throat. He didn't know why he was going so in-depth to Alfred. "A-Anyway, with me gone, he's bound to get into trouble. And he doesn't have me to support him."

"Yeah, but didn't you say the King was really strong?"

"I did...say that. But without the Queen..."

"Does he depend on you or something?"

"...Well...yes, and no. Royalty...in the end, we all draw our power from the land. But the Queen is tied to the land and helps the land flourish. I'm also - the Queen is also responsible for powering the clocks with his or her magic. Generally, although the King is very powerful, the Queen tends to make up in magic for what he or she lacks in physical strength compared to the king. And the King can draw from the clocks, if needed; essentially, he can take the Queen's magic. If he or she had any to give," Arthur finished quietly.

"Is something wrong with your magic?" Alfred asked after a while, his eyes focused on Arthur's intensely.

"I've been...terribly busy, lately. A-Anyway, that's none of your business. Quite inquisitive, aren't you?"

"Dude." Alfred's eyes widened. "Shoot. Uh, sorry. Arthur. You tell me you're from a different universe and that you're the Queen of some country and that another guy named Alfred who happens to look like me is the King and you _don't_ expect me to ask questions?"

Arthur chuckled, and instantly chided himself for letting him become comfortable. "Fair point."

"I...really don't know how to react. I mean, I believe in aliens and stuff, but different universes...and crossing between them...it's kinda...really weird."

Arthur sighed. "I don't blame you. I'm having trouble adjusting myself. If I had my strength back, I'd have shown you a thing or two, but..."

"I don't know why, but I don't feel like you're lying," Alfred said honestly, locking eyes with Arthur. "I mean, you look exactly the same, but...just, the way that you talk, and everything you're saying...you're definitely different. I mean, you two are similar in terms of personality and looks and stuff, but...I dunno. You _feel_ different."

Arthur blinked, and allowed himself to smile.

"Thank you, Alfred. I could say the same for you."

The King had been warm and kind like Alfred, once. The King that Arthur fell for, the heroic, somewhat idiotic twat that was always spouting nonsense and running around trying to get everything done. But now he was cold, unshakable, and wanted Arthur gone.

So be it.

But Spades was his kingdom, too, and he wouldn't go down without a fight.

* * *

 _In the Kingdom of Spades._

"I told you," Arthur croaked for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I don't know what Spades is."

He was splashed in the face by a cold bucket of ice water, and he winced as he looked up at the guard again.

He had been taken to some sort of prison cell, and he was left alone for a couple of hours before a guard came in and started interrogating him.

It wasn't too violent, but the guard was unexpectedly rough with him.

Wherever he was, it wasn't civilized treatment.

The hours alone had been torture. He didn't know what was wrong with Alfred, or where he was, or why Alfred was taking this weird setup so far.

 _Was_ that Alfred? He seemed different somehow, but they looked exactly the same, and they even sounded the same. It was impossible for him to be anyone else.

"Then why are you impersonating the Queen?"

"What bloody Queen are you talking about? How can I impersonate a Queen? I'm _male_ , if you hadn't noticed."

"You know as well as I do that excuse only works for foreigners. And while we're at it, drop the accent."

"What accent? _You're_ the one with the accent."

"Trying to mock me, are you?"

The guard slapped him, and Arthur glared up at him as he tried to stand up. But he was quickly forced down again by the guard to a kneeling position.

"You will stay on your knees while I question you. Where are you from? Hearts? Clubs?"

"I'm from _England._ Currently staying in America. Why does that matter?"

"Where is that? Some codename for Clubs? A town? City?"

"A _country_ , you fool! Where are we?"

"You are in the custody of the king of Spades, and you claim to not know where you are?"

"I keep telling you, Spades doesn't -"

"Leave him," cut in a cool voice, and Arthur and the guard turned to see Alfred standing outside the cell. He was in the same clothes as before, and he looked tired.

"Alfred," Arthur whispered, surprised, but shock quickly turned into anger. "What is this all about? And why has this bloke been asking me these ridiculous questions?"

"Who are you?" Alfred asked as he stepped into the cell, switching places with the guard, who left the cell slowly with an eye on Arthur. "You either don't know where you are, or you are feigning ignorance."

"I'm _Arthur_ ," Arthur repeated irritatedly.

"I sent him away," Alfred said, sounding a bit confused. "And he was gone, for a second. And then you showed up."

"You never sent me away," Arthur frowned. "You went for a shower, and then...and then I fell asleep on your bed. You know that."

"Shower?" Alfred frowned. "What do you mean?"

"A shower. Bath," Arthur said, standing up. Alfred reached out hesitantly, but didn't stop him.

"I did not."

"And then I woke up here," Arthur said, sighing. "And I have been awfully confused for the past couple of hours."

"It is morning," Alfred said. "I sent Arthur away at midnight."

"What are you..." Arthur paused, and looked up at Alfred. "What do you mean you sent me away? I can't seem to keep you away from me even when I _want_ you gone; why on earth would you send me away?"

"I haven't seen you in weeks, Arthur," Alfred said softly, his cold gaze breaking for just a moment. He looked down, seeming defeated.

It was a moody, brooding, sorrowful look that really didn't suit him.

And _that_ was when Arthur knew something was truly amiss.

It wasn't possible for Alfred to act like this. And he insisted on keeping up whatever this was. The Alfred Arthur knew would have given in by now. And he'd never have treated Arthur the way this Alfred was treating him.

He didn't know what was going on, but at this point he really was becoming worried that this wasn't the Alfred he knew.

It could be a dream, of course. After all, he had fallen asleep. But if it was a dream, it was painfully real and strangely long.

Either way, it was the best explanation. Of course his mind had to conjure up this weird version of Alfred for him to deal with.

"What did you mean by impersonating the Queen?" Arthur asked finally, and Alfred looked up.

"Arthur is the Queen of Spades. You look just like him, and call yourself Arthur. But you aren't Arthur."

"My name _is_ Arthur, and I won't say it again. And how can a male be Queen?"

"Tch. The titles don't really mean anything."

"So can a female be King?" Arthur inquired sarcastically.

"It's not unheard of."

Arthur gaped at him.

"S-So, you're saying...that..." He paused. It was weird to refer to himself in the third person, but it was probably for the best. "That the other Arthur, he was the Queen of this nation, and you..."

"I sent him away. And then you appeared on the magic circle."

"Magic...circle?"

"Using the Queen's own magic to trap him." Alfred smiled bitterly. It made Arthur feel uncomfortable. "He was supposed to be sent to another land. But then _you_ showed up."

Alfred frowned suddenly, taking out what seemed to be a small pocket watch in the shape of a Spade. He frowned as he looked at it, and then pointed it at Arthur.

"Hm. That's interesting. The minute hand points to you, but the hour hand isn't working..."

"What does that mean?" Arthur asked.

"It means that you're Arthur, but you're not the Queen."

Well, this certainly was a bizarre dream.

"Yes, I'm not royalty of any kind. But that doesn't explain why you locked me up like this."

Alfred frowned then, casting a shadow over his face. "I can't have everyone thinking you're imprisoned..." Alfred murmured. He looked up at Arthur, sighing.

"I guess I don't have a choice. Come with me."

He took Arthur's hand suddenly, but he had no warmth.

"H-Hey! Where are we going?"

Alfred didn't respond as he led him out of the cell and down the hall.

* * *

"Um...I really don't know about this..."

"You _have_ to," Alfred sighed. "You may not be Arthur - _my_ Arthur - but you look identical. I can't have the people in the palace thinking you're locked up. They would go crazy. Especially when Spades is in this much trouble. Look, I know you probably don't have magic or anything -"

"Of course I don't!"

"But nobody else will notice that you lack the brand. All you have to do is wear those clothes and stay by my side."

"Why in the world did you send the Queen away anyway?"

Alfred recoiled slightly.

"It's...it doesn't matter."

"Well, clearly it does! We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't!"

Honestly, he felt sorry for this other Arthur - having to deal with this cold, harsh, infuriating Alfred all the time. He had probably been glad to leave.

"He was..." Alfred stopped, looking down. He seemed pained suddenly, and his eyebrows twitched into a slight frown. "He couldn't stay here. That's it."

"And why not? Does he not rule Spades as you do? And according to what you said, if Spades is truly in trouble, the _last_ thing your land needs is -"

"Shut up!" Alfred growled, suddenly gripping Arthur's wrist painfully, fury in his eyes. Arthur stepped back, shocked and slightly scared.

"You know nothing about this land, or about me, or about him, so stop acting like you can solve Spades' problems in a day!"

"Well, why don't _you_ stop acting like a brooding, mopey child all day long and accept the consequences of your actions!" Arthur retorted in an equally loud voice, stepping forward again as he grabbed a fistful of Alfred's shirt in his other hand. "If you can't even tell me why you sent him away, then clearly you have your own issues! I agree, I know nothing about this land, and I clearly don't know _you_ as well as I thought, but the Alfred I know would never skirt his problems like you are doing right now! At the very least he'd punch something and face them!"

"Who is this Alfred you know?" Alfred asked suddenly, his voice low. "What do you mean?"

"Like I said, he looks exactly like you and his name is Alfred. He's a bit like you as well, although less infuriating and confusing," Arthur huffed, letting his hand fall. But Alfred's grip on his wrist only tightened, and Arthur winced.

Another reminder that this was not the Alfred he knew.

"And you...are not the Queen. Wait..." Alfred released his arm, and Arthur noticed there was a mark on his wrist. He pulled his arm to his chest while Alfred stepped back, frowning again. "It's not...possible, but..."

"Were we somehow switched?" Arthur offered without thinking, and Alfred's eyes widened.

"How, though?" Suddenly Alfred was in front of him again, his eyes desperate. "I only meant to send him away, but if he got switched with you..."

"Then he's in our apartment right about now," Arthur finished thoughtfully. "With the other Alfred."

"Huh. Maybe he'll drive the other Alfred insane too," Alfred muttered sulkily.

Although he didn't know the other Arthur, he felt a bit irritated at Alfred's treatment of him. "Or maybe my Alfred will give him the treatment he deserves," Arthur commented, his eyes narrowed.

If this was a dream, he hoped he'd wake up soon.

But as much as he hated to admit it, a small part of him felt inexplicably drawn towards this Alfred. He was certainly put off by Alfred's icy demeanor, but he felt a sense of shock and curiosity drive him to want to understand this other Alfred more.

He wanted to know, he _needed_ to know, what had driven Alfred to become a shell of his former self.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi everyone, sorry for the ~EXTREMELY~ long wait! (Around a year, I believe!) I made some major changes to the next couple of chapters, mostly condensing them so that the story doesn't go on too long. It took a while to write everything! Still, I hope you enjoy, and thank you SO SO much to those of you who have waited so long!_

* * *

 _He could see two small children hunched over together in the meadow, each wearing a simple white frock with matching cherry red ribbons around their necks. The wind carried the sound of their laughter as they fought over who could find a four-leaf clover the fastest._

 _He knew it was a dream. He knew who these two were, and he knew what he had done to them. He knew that from that day forward, they would never hunch over and giggle to themselves like that again._

 _He didn't want to move forward. He didn't want to ruin their happiness, he wanted to give them a childhood while he could._

 _But he couldn't, and he knew it. For even in his dreams, he couldn't stop his tiny legs from moving forward, grinning to himself as he ran over to them, inadvertently tripping and falling all over the two of them. He had turned as red as a beet then, squirming and struggling to stand, gazing at the two faces that stared at him in awe..._

"...thur! Arthur! Your Royal Hiney!"

" _What_ did you just call me?" the Queen grunted as he woke up with a start. He shook his head a couple of times, squinting as he adjusted to the morning light.

He _still_ wasn't used to this Alfred, even after a week.

"Ha! I knew that would get you," Alfred said, winking cheekily. "Did your man call you that back home?"

" _Please_ don't mention that swine early in the morning," Arthur groaned, his heart sinking at even the mention of his King. "What...what time is it?"

"Time to get up!" Alfred chirped, standing up from his position next to the bed and stretching, letting out a long, loud yawn. Arthur found it somewhat obnoxious, and he glared at him. "What?" Alfred asked innocently, staring down at Arthur. "You sleep good?"

"I did not sleep _well_ , no," Arthur corrected. "I..." He frowned. He had already forgotten his dream, though he was able to have perfect lucidity almost always in Spades.

"Huh. I slept okay," Alfred shrugged, frowning. His eyes drifted over to Arthur's clock, which lay on the nightstand next to Arthur's bed. _"Damn_. That thing just does _not_ get time right, huh."

"It's not meant to tell the _time_ , you fool," Arthur sighed, yawning as well. "It's far too important for that."

"So what does it do again?"

"How many times must we go over this, Alfred?" Arthur said irritably. Mornings were never his forte.

Alfred winced. "One more time?"

"Very well," Arthur sighed, carefully taking hold of the clock. He polished the face and sides with his borrowed pajamas - which, by the way, were absolutely _ridiculous_ to Arthur but Alfred had made him wear them even though they were a bit short on him. He stared at its face, the second hand ticking away while the minute hand had settled on 12. The hour hand was still spinning uncontrollably.

"The hour hand points to the King. Or Queen, if you're the King. Mine isn't working, because, as you know, you aren't the King."

Alfred nodded. "That part I remember."

"Well done," Arthur said flatly. "Now. The minute hand is supposed to represent our reservoir of magic. Or energy, whatever you want to call it. Mine _was_ spinning backwards - a bad sign - but now its settled on the 0 mark, or 12, if you're counting the hour. That means I have no magic left, whatsoever." Arthur sighed. "Not surprising."

"That sucks." Alfred commented.

Arthur let out a snort, then quickly chided himself. How unseemly. Alfred grinned at that, and Arthur turned a bit red and coughed, looking away. But Alfred was still staring at him, so he turned toward him and snapped, "What? What do you want?"

"Nothing," Alfred hummed, a grin on his face. "Just that you don't have to be so stiff around me, y'know? Besides, my Arthur's done a _ton_ of stuff you'd probably hate to -"

"Understood," Arthur cut him off hastily. He didn't even want to _think_ about what the other Arthur had done by accident that Alfred remembered forever, considering how much Alfred had told him about his Arthur. "In any case, I'll continue. The second hand works normally. It captures each second, except in the cases when we transfer magic."

Alfred scratched his head. "What does that mean again?"

Arthur groaned. "It means nothing. Forget it."

He was _tired_ of explaining things to Alfred, not just because it was becoming repetitive, but also because each time opened up a fresh wound in his heart. Would he ever see Alfred again? Would his hour hand ever work again? Would...would he even ever have _magic_ again?

No. He couldn't afford to think like this. He had a country to run. Without his country, without the land...he was _nothing_ , and he knew it. If he wasn't Queen, he was as good as dead.

Alfred pouted. "Come on, I'm sorry, I promise I'll listen! What do you mean by magic transfer?"

"This isn't one of your... _video games_ , Alfred. This isn't a _game_. It's very real. And I will teach you in due time, if I must," Arthur said, avoiding the subject.

And Alfred did make his worries easy to avoid. In the past week, he'd taught him all about this world, from its humburgs to its video games to its teknoll...gy? Arthur was amazed at what the humans of this world could do, but not having his magic did begin to grow on him like an ache. As did being separated from his land.

"Aww, c'mon..."

"And I hope you aren't treating me to one of your humburgs again for our morning meal."

Alfred broke out laughing. "And how many times do I have to tell _you_ that it's called a _hamburger_ , not a _humburg_!"

Arthur reddened, glaring furiously at Alfred. "It's a humburg if I say it is! I'm the bloody Queen! And you're not even a Number, you're just a -" Arthur stopped.

For in this world, there was no such strict monarchy, there were no Numbers, no fate, no...no chosen ones.

Alfred frowned. "Now _that_ I haven't heard. What's a Number?"

Arthur groaned. "Can't we at least have a cup of tea first?"

Alfred grinned. "Now that's one thing that _hasn't_ changed."

* * *

"So, each kingdom is supposed to have like, a King, a Queen, an Ace, and a Jack, right?"

"What is a Jack?" Arthur asked, wrinkling his nose. "Where did you get that from?"

"Oh, uh..." Alfred looked down. "I don't know if I showed you this game before-"

"Oh, not another one of your _games_ ," Arthur sighed, frowning.

Alfred gave him a small smile. "Never mind. Go on."

"Well, you were mostly correct."

"So then, who is your Ace? And why do you never talk about him? Isn't he supposed to be helping you guys out, and, uh...balancing you guys or whatever?"

Arthur blinked. He should have known this question was coming.

But he would never be prepared to answer it. Not to Alfred, nor his King.

"He is...indisposed, as of late," Arthur said carefully. He could have just lied, but for some reason he had trouble lying to Alfred, even if it wasn't his King.

Alfred frowned. "What does that mean? Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Arthur snapped. "Well? Do you understand now? Is this interrogation over?"

"Touchy," Alfred muttered, looking down briefly before looking at Arthur again. "So then, I'm the King, right? And you said that...wait, so you chose me, right?"

"I chose _him_ ," Arthur nodded.

"Okay, and then you said...the King of...uh...Hearts-"

"Diamonds." Arthur corrected promptly.

"Diamonds, he uh...he chose you?"

Arthur nodded.

"So then...okay, and then the King of the country chooses the Ace. And you all have that...mark, or whatever. So how do people get the mark?"

"They're born with it," Arthur said, shrugging.

"But how do you know who is supposed to be Queen and King, if you have two kids with marks?"

"The mark is obviously a bit different. The Queen's tends to be smaller than the King's, and the King's is slightly darker. The Ace has the lightest mark, and to be completely honest...and there have been a few Aces without marks in times of turmoil."

"Okay, so then...wait." Alfred looked up at Arthur. "What happens when...when something happens to them?"

Arthur looked down. "Well, you'd need a replacement. Suppose I were to die. That would...well, aside from throwing off the kingdom, the King would lose his magic, the Ace would lose his job, until they find a new Queen. The Royal Council is convened and the King picks a new Queen who the King of their partner country - in our case, Diamonds - approves."

Alfred blinked. "Wait. But doesn't the Queen have to have a mark?"

"The mark will appear in the next most worthy," Arthur recited, shutting off his emotions. Shutting off his train of thoughts, of what Alfred might be doing right now, if he really did want a replacement Queen...

Arthur's face gave himself away, his lip quivering slightly as he lowered his eyes even further, squeezing his clock with his hands.

Alfred's gaze softened as he lightly reached out his hand and covered Arthur's hands with his own. Arthur looked up immediately, surprised.

"Hey, I'm sorry. My bad. Thanks for telling me everything. I really appreciate it."

Arthur blinked a couple of times, wondering if he could record Alfred's low, sincere words in his head forever. Engrave them in his heart, so that he'd never feel hurt again. But he knew those thoughts were foolish. He couldn't let this Alfred get to him. He shook his head, but he didn't move Alfred's hand away. He didn't acknowledge how his hands stopped shaking after Alfred covered them with his own.

"No. These are things you must know, if you are to understand Spades, if you are to understand our continent of Kards, how we operate."

"So, uh, what happened to your family? Do you get to see them often?" Alfred began hesitantly, changing the subject.

Arthur tilted his head. "Family, you say? I wouldn't know. I was taken from them as a child. My mentors were my family, perhaps. But once I married, they all left."

Alfred frowned. "Why?"

But Arthur's thoughts were racing in a new direction. "Say, Alfred...do you happen to have family?"

Alfred paused at the sudden question, but nodded. "Yeah, I have a brother. Matthew."

Arthur froze, his eyes wide. "M-Matthew, you say...?"

Alfred smiled. "Yeah, why?"

Matthew. How...how could...no. It _had_ to be. Hadn't Arthur expected it, since he had asked in the first place?

"Matthew is...is your brother?"

Alfred chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I just said."

"Is he...do you two get along?"

"Yep! We're like peanut butter and jelly! Two peas in a pod! I mean, in terms of personality, we're like, the exact opposite, but we get along really well! We go out and play baseball a lot - oh, I forgot to show you that - and we do a ton of stuff together. He's pretty quiet, but when he gets mad..." Alfred shivered.

Arthur smiled despite himself. "Is he, now..." He knew he would regret what he was going to say. But he couldn't help himself.

"I should very much like to meet him."

* * *

 _In the country of Spades..._

Arthur's morning had been, if he had to say so himself, _quite_ productive. He was left alone in the Queen's library all morning, and buried himself in pages and pages of the history of Kards, the continent he was now on, as well as Spades, its history, and how its monarchy worked. To be fair, he had been doing research since the King let him into the Queen's library a few days ago. He found small notes penciled in by what he presumed to be the Queen. He noticed that most had to do with Alfred. Arthur had a feeling that small notes like "remind Alfred of this" or "Work on this, show the draft to Alfred" only conveyed a fraction of what the Queen felt for the King. So why on earth was Alfred so angry at...at Arthur? The Queen? At... _him?_

The door was suddenly slammed open, and Arthur jumped, glancing at the figure in the doorway.

Alfred.

No...the King.

"Come with me," he said gruffly. Even though it had been almost two weeks, Alfred insisted on treating him poorly, always commanding him to do things or walk beside him in a precise way or simply just shut him up in a room or in the library where nobody could find him.

But Arthur had no issues with honesty. He would never be subservient to a king unless it was the monarch of his own country, England. And _especially_ with Alfred, even if Alfred refused to break his cold exterior.

"A please would be nice," Arthur remarked, slowly closing his book in no clear hurry. Perhaps they would go for a publicized stroll of the garden, an action only taken to assure the world that the monarchy of Spades was well. Or maybe he'd ask the Queen to accompany him on a trip to the countryside.

He used to be afraid of this Alfred. This King. But he knew that fear would get him nowhere, and that if it truly was Alfred, even if he wasn't _his_...he knew he could help him. He _had_ to. Besides, he didn't have much of a choice. And he was beginning to miss his Alfred terribly, and he knew that he had to solve this issue if he was to return to his own world. To his Alfred.

But his desire, his _need_ to help wasn't merely to return home. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt... _drawn_ to this Alfred. Maybe it was just the amount of time they spent together, but he grew more and more interested the more he stayed.

Arthur's eyes drifted to his forearm. Stones had pelted the carriage last time they rode into the country, and one had sliced Arthur's skin open as it crashed through the window. The shards of broken glass also injured Alfred, though he healed remarkably fast compared to Arthur, who still had to wear a bandage.

He suspected all was _not_ well, not only with the monarchy but also with the state of the kingdom itself.

He hadn't noticed Alfred coming towards him until Alfred grabbed him by his arm and shoved him out of the room. Arthur noticed he had grabbed Arthur's good arm, but he still bristled at his treatment.

"I can move on my own," Arthur snapped, wrenching his arm away from the King.

"Can you?" Alfred retorted irritatedly. "How long are you gonna spend in that dumb library?"

" _Excuse_ me? Are you not the one who locked me in here in the first place?"

"Shut up."

"And I'd like to know where you were last night," Arthur said, stopping as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I ate my meal without you, and it wasn't the first time either."

"Stop pretending like you know me. Like you care."

Arthur groaned. "Will you please stop acting like a _child_ and tell me?"

"And why are you so high-and-mighty?" Alfred turned on him, his shoulders hunched. "What do you know? Do you pity me? Do you pity a King without a Queen?"

Arthur frowned. "Where on earth did you get the idea that I _pity_ you? Don't think so highly of yourself."

Alfred laughed. A hollow, empty laugh that sent a shiver down Arthur's spine. "Highly, huh?"

Arthur had noticed, surprisingly, that the King was anything but arrogant. Stubborn, maybe, but all of his Alfred's confidence was lost on the King. The King seemed...insecure, if anything. Maybe because he sent his Queen away?

"Your...clock, is it? ...the...magic. Will you be okay? Is that why you retired early last night? Are you not feeling well?" His face _did_ seem a little pale.

Alfred normally deflected the question, but this time, he dropped his gaze.

"The Queen is still alive. So I cannot choose another to support me. Nor do I..." Alfred stopped. "I am without magic for now. It won't be long until..."

 _The country breaks._ Arthur knew from the books he'd read. Without the ability to channel the energy of the land, Alfred was helplessly lost. And without the Ace...

But according to Alfred, the Ace was supposedly taken into the protection of the Queen for some reason. But the Ace was nowhere in the castle. So where could he be? And considering how vital the Queen was, Arthur couldn't fathom why Alfred would make such a stupid decision as to send him away, despite how much they may be estranged.

"You're out of your place," Alfred said suddenly, his eyes dark. He marched forward towards Arthur until Arthur had no choice but to back up against a pillar, wincing as his back hit the cold stone.

"Alfred, what are you -"

"You think you can talk like that to me? To your _King_ , when I could have you killed for impersonating the Queen?"

He had retreated into his shell again, a shell that became stronger with each passing day. His pain was so clear, so _real_ , but how could Arthur hope to understand when the King was being so _frustrating_?

"You want me to have magic that bad?"

Arthur blinked, frowning.

"You...but you'd need your Queen, yes?"

Alfred grinned then, a wry, devilish grin that made Arthur uncomfortable. It wasn't Alfred. This was...this couldn't be...

But Arthur had no time to think as Alfred suddenly leaned closer and kissed him.

But it didn't feel right. Not at _all_. Fire ran down his spine as his entire body felt like it were about to burst into flames. It was painful, it _hurt_ , but Alfred wouldn't stop, deepening the kiss, as if Alfred was actually _enjoying_ the pain it brought him.

"Al..." Arthur protested, but he couldn't finish. He faltered, then collapsed.

Alfred caught him in his arms, deep sorrow in his eyes as he lay Arthur against the pillar, bending down as he studied him.

"What...what is..." Arthur croaked, trying to stand. He struggled, but unconsciousness slowly took over, cloaking his mind in darkness as his eyes slowly closed.

"But it still works with you..."

A deep frown shadowed the King's face as he took out his watch.

The minute hand moved to the first minute, 01.

He put it away, studying Arthur again.

"So my clock was right. It was...the minute hand was pointing to _you._ To magic. But...how...how do you have magic?" Alfred mused. "I..." He looked down.

"You don't...don't have to forgive me...just...just regret it. Just hate me. Hate me like Arthur does. My Arthur, who I never want to...to see again."


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi everyone! Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy, and please don't forget to review!_

 _(Speedy release because of how long I made you guys wait for the last chapter!)_

* * *

The back of Arthur's neck was bright red with how many times he'd been rubbing and scratching it in anxiety.

Matthew. Matthew was here. With Alfred. They were sitting with Matthew in a normal cafe, sipping tea - well, the two brothers were sipping coffee while _Arthur_ had the tea - but regardless, they were actually sitting together. In a single room. As brothers. As _friends_.

With no tension between them. With no _enmity_.

Arthur had long yearned for a world like theirs.

"You're...awfully silent, Arthur sir," Matthew said, blinking at Arthur worriedly. "I-I mean...how was I supposed to talk to you again?"

It had taken an hour to explain their circumstances to Matthew and to answer his questions, and Matthew, to his credit, took the entire story in rather well. In fact, the poor boy immediately sought to help them in any way he could. Arthur supposed Matthew was rather easy to tease, or fool - he was so trusting, so _gullible_ , that Alfred had even slipped in a couple of lies that Arthur fought to correct, shutting down Alfred with a harsh glare.

If only Alfred knew that his King would give _anything_ to speak to his brother again.

The same boy with violet eyes that deserved so much more.

"Oh, you can call me Arthur," the Queen said with a small smile. "It's very nice to see you again, Matthew."

Alfred stared at him.

Another mistake. Arthur cursed silently as he took another sip. "I-I mean...it's very nice to meet you."

Matthew smiled. "I...I suppose there is another...another 'me' in your world as well, then."

Well, the boy was perceptive, even if he didn't look it. He seemed a bit dreamy, but he was, in fact, very down to earth. And perceptive to the point where he quickly changed the subject to avoid Arthur's discomfort.

"So, when did you two meet again?" Matthew began, lightly brushing a stray curl off of his face.

"A couple weeks," Alfred said, turning to Arthur for confirmation.

In truth, it had been two weeks and one day, but Arthur would never let him know he'd been counting the days he'd spent apart from his King. His _true_ King.

"So...so what is Alfred like, here?" Arthur began, seeking to reach out into their world rather than retreating into his own, bleak mind.

"Oh, he's alright," Matthew said with a small smile as he exchanged glances with Alfred.

"Awww, you aren't gonna tell him how _awesome_ I am? How I wooed Arthur with -"

"I don't think he would -"

"Nah, Imma tell him! Can't believe I didn't yet, to be honest," Alfred said with a wink. Arthur's heart immediately sunk.

He _really_ wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. For his courtship had been...well, crazy, romantic, and all together ridiculous, but...

But Arthur had ruined it. As he always did, with everything.

"Hmm, so I guess we met two years ago. Via accident. I...uh..."

Matthew giggled, then snapped his mouth shut.

"Shut up! I didn't even...aww, well, whatever. I, uh...accidentally hit the back of his head with a football."

Arthur dropped his cup. Luckily, he was just about to put it down, and it clattered onto the dish.

"You _what_?"

"Hey, I was practicing, and he was just sitting there reading his book...and I mean, the look on his face...hey!" Alfred guffawed at the look on the Queen's face. "Just like yours, now!"

"S-Shut up!" Arthur snapped, embarrassed as he sat up straighter and fixed his hat. "Why would the poor sod agree to court you after _that_?"

"Hey, I got the charm and the bod, baby," Alfred grinned, winking.

A mannerism that the other Alfred had always done during their courtship, and even after. A mannerism he had fallen for, when Alfred still had laughter and happiness to give.

Arthur pretended to groan, covering his face with his napkin as he blushed. "You do _not_. Go on."

"Well, I guess that was a part of it. But to be honest, he was just...really _mad_ at me for a while. Talked about paying hospital bills and whatever. I sorta hung out with him after that, and - haha, Arthur! Is that hat of yours always on to hide a bump?"

Arthur immediately stiffened as Alfred reached out for it. He recoiled harshly, slapping Alfred's hand away and wincing at the hurt look his action accompanied.

"O-Oh, no..." Arthur's hands shook a bit. "It's...it's nothing."

"We're indoors, ya know?" Alfred began hesitantly, frowning. "Sorry, Arthur. Did I offend you?"

"No, it's nothing," Arthur repeated firmly. "It's just a...a silly tradition, is all."

"Tradition?" Matthew began, tilting his head slightly. "Oh, does everyone wear hats in your country?"

"In my kingdom," Arthur began gently, turning to Matthew, "Royalty only..." He bit his lip, not knowing how to phrase his answer. He didn't want to sound weird in front of Alfred, knowing he'd be teased later, but...he really didn't know how else to explain. "Royalty only disrobe in front of other royalty. Well...taking off a jacket on a hot day isn't a big deal, I suppose. But...but for articles that touch our skin, or our hair..." He looked down. "Only our spouse, or oneself, is allowed to see, or do, that."

Matthew blinked, reddening a bit. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Arthur said, smiling. "You couldn't have known. And as we are in your...country, right now...I'm afraid the traditions are no longer valid here."

"You should do what suits you," Alfred said, suddenly serious. "If you wanna break tradition, break it. But if you wanna stand by it, then you should do that. You don't have to change just for us."

Arthur's eyes widened slightly. What a...considerate thing for Alfred to say, to say the least. But then again, Alfred knew nothing of Arthur's breaking of tradition. In fact, if he hadn't broken tradition...

He wouldn't be here now, would he?

* * *

"So what exactly made Arthur fall for you?" Arthur asked casually as they walked back to Alfred's apartment.

"Aww man, it was everything. I think I really annoyed him at first, but soon we were inseparable! By the way, how did it go on your end?" Alfred asked enthusiastically. "Did he sweep you off your feet?"

Arthur coughed at the sudden question. "W-Well...to tell the truth, I'd known him since he was a child. Well, I met him once as a child by chance, before I was taken to the palace. After that, I met him when I was sixteen and had to choose the new King."

"Whoa, you got married at _sixteen_?!"

"Well, it's our...the beginning of our adult years, as it were."

"Damn. I didn't know what I was doing with my life at sixteen. Still don't know."

Arthur allowed himself to laugh at that, and Alfred smiled at him.

What he would do for that smile to last. To be eternal. His heart ached.

"How old are you now?" Alfred asked, head tilted.

"Twenty three."

"Oh, so it's been seven years, right?"

Arthur nodded before he continued.

"Well, to be fair, I had to wait for him to be of age before we married. A year. We got married when I was seventeen and he was sixteen." Arthur paused as he saw Alfred's eyes widen in shock.

"After that, we were busy for another two years, and he lived in the countryside at that time before formally moving into the palace. We were each just so _busy._ And considering that Spades only really had an old Ace running everything until we arrived, the courtship really only happened two years after we married and settled down the kingdom. It's when we had more...time for each other, I suppose." Arthur reddened a bit, coughed, and continued. "But courtship between King and Queen is unnecessary in the first place. It's a mere formality. The King and Queen of any kingdom of Kards do not even require the couple to share a bed, as they do in this world."

Alfred adjusted his glasses, and the glint of sunlight off of the glass caught Arthur's eye.

"Say, Alfred...do you wear contacts?"

"Hmm?" Alfred shook his head. "No, why?"

Arthur shrugged. He looked handsome both ways, so he supposed it didn't matter. It'd been a long time since he'd seen his Alfred wear glasses.

"That's kind of weird, though. So you guys didn't really have a choice."

Arthur froze a bit at that.

"Yes, we...we had no choice. Nevertheless, we both...well, we both were deeply...fond, of each other, so...well, he began to formally court me. Out of romantic love. To tell you the truth, he technically began showing interest in me since we met as teenagers, but...anyway. It was _quite_ unnecessary, considering I was already bound to him, but...well," Arthur said, turning to Alfred with a bitter smile. "I suppose _you_ would understand why he did that."

Alfred grinned. "You bet! Anything for Arthur! And you," he added softly, a sympathetic smile on his face. "So what moves really knocked your socks off? I'm still dating Arthur, but...well, if I ever want to marry him one day - which I do - I'm gonna need some tips. I'm not out of moves or ideas or anything, but..."

"Moves?" Arthur scoffed, shooting an unimpressed glance at Alfred. "The boy wouldn't stay with you so long if he didn't like you as a person. As you are now. You don't need to do _anything_."

For, in his eyes, this Alfred was perfect. It was the Alfred that he dreamed of. The Alfred he fell in love with...though this Alfred seemed slightly stupider, slightly more _innocent_ than his Alfred had ever been. And slightly more...Arthur couldn't put his finger on it, but this Alfred just seemed more hopeful, more optimistic, or maybe just flat out _tougher_ than his Alfred. But he was also more transparent. He could tell what Alfred was thinking, how he was _feeling_ , just by looking at his face. At his eyes.

But he could no longer read his King in the same way, and Arthur began to think that...well, that maybe he never could.

Alfred's eyes widened a bit at that, and he chuckled, pleased at the comment. "You think so? I feel like sometimes he gets bored with me. I dunno. Like, he gives me this _exasperated_ look -"

"And you probably deserved it," the Queen cut in, a wry smile on his face. "But trust me when I say this. Arthur...Arthur will never tire of you. He will never leave you."

And the Queen meant it.

Alfred brightened at that, adjusting his glasses as he grinned sheepishly. "Awww, thanks."

Arthur shrugged. It was what he thought, anyway. "Just..." The Queen paused. "Just keep being honest with him like you are with me."

"I always am!"

Arthur snorted. He could believe that.

This Alfred couldn't lie to save his life.

"But still, do you wanna tell me stuff about the...King?" Alfred asked, curious more than anything.

Arthur chuckled. "He was always so full of _energy_ , so much so that I thought I'd never need to supply him with my own. He was very...insecure with his position, but..."

"Insecure? Why?"

Arthur shook his head. "No reason. Just jittery for the new job, I suppose. But he understood that he didn't have a choice, so he grew into it. But he courted me _after_ his training, so...in any case, he..." Arthur was afraid to reminisce. To remember what he could never have again.

Alfred gave him an encouraging smile.

"He..." Arthur faltered, despite his best efforts to remain calm. He couldn't afford to lose his composure, but...

But he _couldn't._ He couldn't bear to remember, to remember that _he_ had ruined everything from their country to their marriage, all because of his utter _naivety_.

Alfred suddenly took hold of his hand, squeezing it.

"Hey," he began in a low voice, his eyes softening. "I'm here. I'm here for you, as long as you need it. So take as long as you need."

Arthur had never been more grateful.

* * *

They walked home in silence. Arthur wanted it, and Alfred was all too happy to oblige.

He knew it was wrong, the thoughts he was having.

Alfred was right _there_. Free, innocent. _Happy_.

 _No_. Arthur reminded himself. _He doesn't belong to you._

But Alfred hadn't let go of his hand.

 _He doesn't belong to you. He isn't the King. He's..._

"Alfred."

"Yeah?"

"I..."

He stopped again, and Alfred looked at him, a small smile on his face.

"Yeah?"

"I will bring you your Arthur back."

Alfred smiled. "I believe you."

"No matter what it takes."

"I know."

After all that he'd done, he couldn't _believe_ he had actually thought, for a second, of leaving his worries behind, of leaving his _world_ behind, and of staying with an Alfred who wanted him, who _loved_ him, who was undeniably happy?

No. This Alfred did not love him.

And he never would, if he knew the truth.

He tore his hand away, and Alfred, taken by surprise, let him go.

"So I don't think you should be too kind to me," he said stiffly, straightening his coat. "It will only..."

"Only what?" Alfred asked, a bit of hurt in his voice.

The poor boy. He couldn't _possibly_ know what Arthur had been thinking, why he was trying to distance himself.

Would it be better to just bring the topic up outright? Alfred _must_ be feeling the same sort of awkwardness, considering that the Queen wasn't his Arthur either.

"How much do you love your Arthur?" the Queen enquired lightly, reaching inside his jacket for his clock.

"Hmm. Dunno. But Arthur's everything to me, you know?" Alfred said, his eyes bright. "Arthur is _everything_."

Arthur's face heated up.

He shouldn't have asked.

He looked down at his clock, polishing it with the edge of his coat absentmindedly. "Is he, now?" he asked, until something on the clock caught his eye.

A five. The minute hand was on 05.

That was impossible.

How could...

In a world with no magic, how could he have...

Arthur looked up at Alfred, stunned, and then down at the hand that had been in Alfred's just a moment ago.

It was impossible...right?

And yet the hour hand that was _supposed_ to point to his King, that had been continuously spinning, was pointing to Alfred.

* * *

 _In the kingdom of Spades..._

It had been a week, and his fever hadn't broken.

He felt sick, emaciated, as he lay in bed. Alfred flitted in and out of the room as much as he could, but he had his duties, and Arthur was alone for most of the day.

He tried to imagine the apartment. The smell of waffles in the morning. The smell of Alfred's coffee. The smell of _Alfred_.

...This was getting him nowhere.

He didn't know what Alfred did to him that night, nor why Alfred had avoided him for a full week after that.

And yet, when he had fallen sick, Alfred was by his side as much as possible, feeding him and applying fresh towels to his forehead, wiping the sweat from his brow.

His Alfred would have done the same.

"Alf..." he called by habit, in his delirium. Alfred wasn't here.

But Arthur wasn't sure whether he imagined it or not when Alfred actually _did_ come into the room.

"Arthur! Do you need anything?"

All sense of self control utterly shut down as he weakly asked, "Stay with me."

Wait... _what_?

Alfred froze for a second before slowly pulling a chair towards the bed and sitting on it. "I'm here." His expression was unreadable.

"What happened to you?" Arthur suddenly asked, his voice slurring a bit.

Alfred frowned.

"You..." he pointed. "Alfred...what happened?"

He felt like crying, but he didn't know why.

Alfred's gaze darkened. "I don't know what you're talking about. You're sick. Rest."

"Tell me. Please."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alfred repeated gently. "You need rest."

"Why did you send him away?"

Normally he'd be locked up for a question like that. But Alfred just stared at him as if he'd asked it for the first time.

"You...you care that much?"

Arthur nodded.

Alfred frowned, drumming his fingers against the chair. He was silent for a while, until a cough from Arthur prompted him to speak.

"He's the Queen, as you know. But he broke many rules. Too many," Alfred said, his voice low. "But that's not it. He was always rebellious in his own way, even though he seems all prim and proper. It's one of the things I-" Alfred stopped. "He broke too many rules. He messed with things that shouldn't be messed with."

"What did he do?"

"He betrayed me," Alfred continued, gripping the edge of the chair until his knuckles were white with tension, as if he were suddenly remembering something. "When I failed to live up to his expectations, he gave up on me. I barely saw him around the castle. He avoided me. And he was so _tired_ and _annoyed_ with me all the time, as if _I'd_ done something wrong when everything was _his_ damn fault!" He suddenly stared at Arthur then, his eyes wide. He stood up abruptly, towering over Arthur.

"Tell me, then!" he shouted, taking Arthur's shoulders and shaking him. "Tell me! Tell me what _I_ did wrong! Tell me what I did when _he_ was the one with...seen with _another_!"

Arthur winced in pain, squeezing his eyes shut as Alfred suddenly let go, backing away.

"I..."

Alfred hung his head.

"I'll go."

Arthur's brain finally processed with Alfred had said. What he had admitted.

Arthur...Arthur had broken rules, and...cheated on Alfred?

"Wait," Arthur called weakly. "Wait, please."

Alfred stopped, his hand on the doorknob.

"I..."

But Arthur finally gave in to sleep, and Alfred left the room, closing the door as quietly as he could.

* * *

He had recovered quickly after that. In a couple of days, Arthur was well enough to move around again, though the physician asked him to be careful and to eat well.

"Alfred," he began quietly, knocking on the door to his study. "I need to ask you something."

"Not now."

"Alfred," he repeated, firmly this time. "I need to speak with you."

The door suddenly opened, and Arthur almost knocked on Alfred's chest. He looked up, surprised.

"What do you want?"

Arthur walked into his study without asking, leaning casually against a bookshelf. "About what you told me the other day."

"I heard you're feeling better. Good enough to disturb me."

"Alfred, you're terrible at being cruel. I'm getting rather tired of it," Arthur said, sighing. "You told me that...that your Queen cheated on you. That he broke rules. What did you mean by that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Alfred asked. "What, is 'cheating' something different in your world?"

"Not quite. But you'd need solid examples, yes? What rules did he break?"

"Don't want to count. But he _did_ cheat on me. Why else would a Queen stay in an inn by a tavern countless times, booking a _double_ room, when he has the best bedroom here at the castle? And why would he refuse to tell me what he did those nights, what towns he checked up on?"

"Perhaps he was traveling and didn't want to worry you with the details? I read that the Queen has to -"

Alfred gave him a bitter smile that cut him off. "Well, yeah, I guess you'd defend yourself."

Arthur colored at that, snapping, "I'd never do such a thing to begin with!"

"Yeah, _you_ , maybe. But not _him_. He's a monster."

But Arthur could tell Alfred didn't mean it. He forced himself to say that. But _why_?

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. "So? Didn't you ever confront him?"

"You think I didn't?" Alfred stalked towards him, a frown darkening his face. "I asked him. _So_ many times. But he always avoided the question."

Arthur frowned at that.

"See? And you blame me."

"I don't blame anyone when I don't know the facts," Arthur retorted, but in truth, the odds were against Arthur.

And both of them knew it.

* * *

"Hopefully we don't get pelted by rocks this time."

Alfred's eyes darkened, and Arthur immediately regretted the small jest.

"It wasn't like this before," Alfred said, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned against the side of the carriage. The road was relatively smooth, so Arthur supposed they must be going a different direction than the bumpy road they'd taken the first time.

"You said that the Queen used to handle matters in the countryside?"

"Yeah. The Queen is more directly connected to the land, anyway, so he told me he'd handle it."

"It seems like an awful lot for one person to take on. Especially since things are so..." Arthur looked up at Alfred, feeling that he didn't need to finish.

Alfred sighed. "Yeah. It's been rough, actually. And since Yao's gone..."

 _Yao?_ It had to be their Ace. The Ace that was supposedly under Arthur's protection.

"Do you know where he might be?"

"If I knew, he'd be here. I've searched the entire castle grounds, as well as Arthur's estate."

"Is it possible that..." Arthur paused. He knew it sounded ridiculous, but...

He knew there was unrest. He knew Spades was having a hard time. And the rocks from last time meant people weren't happy with Alfred. With the _monarchy_.

"Is it possible that something happened to Yao?"

Alfred gave him a strange look. "What do you mean?"

"Well..." Arthur shrugged. "Given all the trouble, perhaps...perhaps something happened to Yao and Arthur is covering for him. Suppose he got...hurt, or attacked, or something, and Yao didn't want you to worry. So perhaps the Queen lied for him until he recovers?"

Alfred laughed at that. "Really? You _really_ think that?"

Alfred fell silent.

"Why would he lie to me?"

Arthur groaned. Was _that_ all Alfred got out of his suggestion?

But he had a point. The King _should_ have a right to know exactly what is happening, exactly how those around him are doing, so he'd obviously be hurt when others tried to protect him through lies.

The carriage suddenly hit a large snag in the road, and Arthur felt himself rise and fall out of his seat.

But Alfred quickly caught him, his hand touching Arthur's.

The searing pain again. And Alfred seemed to know it, too, as he quickly let go, drawing his hand back towards him.

"Sorry," Alfred said, his eyes wide. "You okay?"

"Y-Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

Unsettled, he sat back down, staring at his hands.

Whenever Alfred touched him, skin to skin, it was almost like...

Well, it was extremely _unpleasant_.

"Alfred," Arthur began hesitantly. "I-I know this must sound absurd, but -"

"You hurt," Alfred said, confirming Arthur's thoughts. "It hurts when I touch you."

"Well...yes."

"It's because..." Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, you know how the royalty here works, right? Why the Queen and King are equally important?"

"Yes, I've read up on it."

"Yeah. It was like this after we got married, too. When I had to hold his hand at the altar..." Alfred's eyes darkened, and he shook his head. "Anyway. But once a King and Queen establish a bond - and I mean, like a real bond, platonic or romantic, the Queen can begin to control how much energy, or magic, he or she gives the King. So while he or she can allow energy to be sapped through touch, the Queen can also just send energy mentally or eliminate the touch thing completely. So it was never really a big deal for us after that."

Alfred looked at Arthur, frowning. "But obviously, _we_ don't. So it hurts you a lot when I take it. Probably because you're not used to it. I don't think it affected Arthur too much. Or maybe my Queen was just tougher than you," he said with a smirk.

Arthur glared at him, and Alfred grinned.

"Well, we didn't get to spend a lot of time together until much later, anyway." Alfred looked out the window again before turning to Arthur. "But I guess your experience was different."

Arthur honestly felt spoiled compared to how much these two went through. He could only imagine it, but...

Well, he had known his Alfred for two years. But they'd just spent so much time _together._ They never had to wait or learn or train before they could be together. They just _were._

But that was not a luxury this King and Queen had.

"So how did you..." Arthur made a gesture. "You...when did you two begin to rule?"

"I was chosen at fifteen, and married at sixteen. But after that I stayed in my village and trained for another two years, especially since I didn't really know what to do with magic I took in. I didn't want to accidentally take in Arthur's and then fall sick because I couldn't control it. Oh, we got married around seven years ago, I guess. But I only _really_ started seeing Arthur at eighteen. It hurt a lot, you know. To only be able to see him once a month in those two years. Not that any of that matters now."

Arthur's eyes widened. The King was only _twenty-two_? He had looked so much older. Arthur himself was around the same age, but he supposed he must look like a teenager compared to the King.

Alfred had an amused twinkle in his eye, one Arthur had never seen, as he asked, "What? Surprised? I know. I'm told I'm a lot younger than I look."

Arthur laughed a bit, nodding. "I'm your age, actually."

"Huh. I'm always used to Arthur being older than me. Not that one year matters."

"My Alfred is two years younger, but I can understand the feeling."

The two locked gazes again before laughing.

Oh, how utterly _ridiculous_ this situation was!

"I'm sorry, Alfred," Arthur said suddenly, looking down.

Alfred frowned a bit, leaning forward.

"I..." Arthur shook his head. "You didn't..." He looked up again, taking a deep breath. "When I first saw you, I was honestly shocked. You just...of course, you're taller than the Alfred I know, and you talk a bit differently, but...you're still _Alfred,_ and seeing what being the King has done to you..."

Alfred's eyes softened, and he gave him a look Arthur had never thought he'd see.

A _smile_.

An actual smile.

"I wanted it. I _chose_ it. So perhaps this mess is really my fault." Alfred looked down, a self-depreciating smile on his face.

"I could never be a king, Arthur," he said quietly, his eyes watery. "I was never good enough. And my Queen knows that. But all I could do was try."


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi everyone! Here's the next chapter. Please don't forget to review!_

 _This chapter is (approx) halfway through the story, so we'll be "crossing" perspectives for this chapter(5) and the last chapter(10)._

 _Thanks for waiting so patiently!_

* * *

 _One week later..._

Okay. Alfred knew that it definitely wasn't _him_.

Arthur was avoiding him. For what reason, Alfred couldn't tell, but Arthur was undeniably avoiding him.

Was it the ice cream?

Alfred's eyes wandered over to his right, where the Queen was walking next to him, enjoying chocolate chip mint flavored ice cream. He would never forget the look on the Queen's - no, _Arthur's_ \- face as he tried ice cream for the first time. His eyes had lit up - Alfred _loved_ his verdant eyes, tinged with just a bit of hazel and yellow, like a springtime meadow - and he had turned slightly pink, muttering that it "wasn't bad" under his breath.

But of course, Alfred knew he had loved it. Just like Alfred showed his love by finishing his treat down the cone in a second, Arthur showed it by enjoying it slowly, making each bite count. In fact, if Arthur _had_ hated it, he would have scoffed it down(as he did hamburgers) or just thrown it away without a second thought.

Well, that was another similarity that both Arthurs shared. It was weird, getting to know this Arthur, mapping out what was similar and what was different. But he loved it, and he loved the Queen, even if he _was_ a lot more...well, mysterious than his Arthur. Because as he grew to know Arthur more and more, he began to see how human the Queen of Spades actually was.

He wasn't some indestructible wizard with an unlimited amount of magic points like he forced Arthur to play in his video games. Nothing could be farther from the truth, though Alfred hadn't thought so at first. At first...

Well, at first, he was actually _terrified_.

But in any case, Arthur had liked the ice cream, that much he knew.

So _why_ had he not said anything? And why did he have to walk so...so far away from Alfred? And it wasn't just today. He'd been acting weird for the past few days.

Was it him? Did Alfred do something? He frowned, adjusting his glasses as his lips fell into an unstoppable pout.

"Arthur," he began, fully looking at Arthur. The Queen turned to him, a wary look in his eyes.

It was then that Alfred noticed, for the first time, what Arthur had talked about all this time.

He took in a quick breath, startled at how...well, at how he thought it wasn't there, but it just suddenly _was_.

The mark. The small navy mark in the shape of a spade that was at the bottom of the Queen's right iris, or from Alfred's perspective, his left. It was an unmistakable spade.

Noticing Alfred gawking, Arthur huffed at him, his thick eyebrows furrowing into a slight frown. "What? What is it?"

"Uh...n-nothing," Alfred said quickly, not wanting to worry Arthur. Besides, it didn't matter that he could see it, did it?

But what had the Queen said? That...that only members of Royalty were trained to see the mark. But it seemed pretty apparent to Alfred all of a sudden, and he didn't know why.

"Uh...it's just that, I can, uh...see your mark. In your eye."

Arthur stiffened then, almost dropping his ice cream.

"You _what_?"

"Uh...the Spade mark?"

"In my...in my eye, you say? You can see the royal mark?"

His voice was dangerously low, and Alfred instantly regretting admitting it.

"I-Is that bad?"

"How?"

Arthur seemed more surprised than angry. He stood, dumbfounded, staring at Alfred as if he had grown a third arm.

"I don't know," Alfred admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I just suddenly... _saw_ it. It's pretty apparent, actually."

Arthur looked away, his eyebrows furrowed in thought, a mannerism that Alfred adored. Arthur - or at least, _his_ Arthur - thought he could hide his thoughts pretty well, but Alfred was a lot smarter than he looked. He knew that the Queen was upset for some reason, and that the surprise hadn't been a pleasant one. He just didn't know _why_.

"Is...is that bad?" Alfred began when Arthur remained silent.

"It is," Arthur said without hesitation. He looked up at Alfred, some sort of firm resolve in his eyes.

"I need to leave."

* * *

"Arthur, can you _please_ tell me what's going on?"

The Queen was pacing around the apartment, staring at his clock as if it were giving him the answers he needed while gathering up his few belongings.

"Arthur, I..." Alfred's face fell. "I hope I didn't do anything. I-I thought you liked the ice cream, honest. And...and I'm sure it's just me, I don't think Matthew saw it the other day or anything..."

Arthur stopped then, giving Alfred a peculiar look. "It has nothing to do with the sweets, Alfred. I've just been careless. And..." He stopped then, turning on Alfred and walking towards him. He suddenly placed his hand on Alfred's arm. His hand was kind of cold.

"You don't feel anything?"

Alfred shrugged. "I mean, your hand's cold, but other than that..."

Arthur let out an irritated sigh. "No. I mean, you don't feel any pain? Dizziness? Headache?"

"What, am I sick?" Alfred laughed. Did Arthur think that there was something wrong with him? But what did _that_ have to do with anything?

"Not yet." Arthur's eyes narrowed as he drew back. Alfred reached out his hand, taking Arthur's gently.

Arthur looked up at him, surprised, as a light blush dusted his cheeks.

"Can you please tell me what's going on?"

Arthur looked down at his clock, and then back at Alfred.

"There is no magic in this world, correct?"

"Uh...yeah. I think so. I mean, I can do a few magic tricks, but..."

"So there's no real magic. Tangible energy." Arthur frowned, and Alfred grinned as he recalled showing Arthur the few "tricks" he could do. "This doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?"

Alfred was getting kind of sick of being left out of the loop. His Arthur normally told him everything, or at least the important things.

But sometimes he got the feeling that this Arthur didn't trust him. Alfred loved Arthur and would do anything for him, but...

He hated to admit it, but he was beginning to see how the Queen's Alfred _might_ have gotten a bit frustrated with him. He knew it was in Arthur's nature to be independent and take care of things himself, but...

Honestly, they'd been together for a solid couple of weeks, and Alfred thought that Arthur kind of owed it to him to 'fess up a bit. Even if he _was_ the Queen of Spades...was Alfred really not worth trusting?

"Arthur," Alfred began, his voice slightly lower. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

Arthur let out a sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Alfred, you..." He looked up at Alfred, studying him silently.

Alfred sat down next to him, noticing that the Queen scooted slightly away from him almost immediately. But before the Queen could settle again, he covered Arthur's hand with his own, holding Arthur's gaze as he did.

"Arthur, we're in this together. You know that, right?"

Arthur stayed silent, looking down as he adjusted his hat, keeping it firmly on top of his head.

"I'm not just anyone, you know. I..." Alfred didn't know how to continue. Sometimes he wished he were as good with words as Arthur, but Arthur assured him countless times that he was enough. "Arthur, you're not alone. I hope you know that. Here, and...and as Queen. You have me with you...well, I dunno how great the King is, but you have other people in the castle that will always be there. You're not...you'll never be alone."

Arthur looked up at him, his eyes widened.

"W-What are you saying, you -"

He tried to draw his hand away from Alfred's, but Alfred kept a firm hold, even when Arthur furrowed his eyebrows.

He studied Arthur closely, until a small beauty mark on the side of Arthur's face distracted him.

"Oh, I didn't notice that until now either," Alfred said surprisedly, leaning closer so he could see.

"You-!"

Arthur violently jolted backwards, so much so that he fell onto the bed. His hat toppled off and fell over the side onto the floor.

"O-Oh, sorry!" Alfred exclaimed, trying to resist the thoughts he was having.

The thoughts that he _shouldn't_ be having.

"Bloody - sorry about that," Arthur said, immediately sitting back up, his face flushed. "I...what were you looking at?"

"You have a mole!"

"A mark," the Queen corrected with a slight frown. "A mole is an animal."

Alfred laughed, glad to break the tension. "We call those marks moles here too!"

"How curious."

"But Arthur," Alfred said with a wink. "I will seriously push you down if you don't tell me what's going on."

Arthur stared at him blankly before a blush crept back up onto his face.

"Y-You will do no such thing!" he spluttered, and Alfred laughed.

"Sure I will! I already got started," he grinned, gesturing to Arthur's hat. Arthur gasped as he hurriedly retrieved it, dusting it off before putting it back on his head.

"Oh, all right! Just remember that you asked for it. And I'll remember this blackmail in the future. Should you ever -"

"Yeah, yeah, you're a ferocious lion," Alfred interrupted, but stopped when he saw a peculiar look on Arthur's face.

"You...how did you know that?"

"Know what?"

"That I..." the Queen stopped. "My...my soul animal is a lion."

Alfred frowned. "What?"

"When..." the Queen paused. "When citizens of Kards are born, in our first year of birth we have a series of marks that, when connected, take the shape of an animal, just over our heart. It's not awfully big, but...well, we like to assign meaning to those little dots," Arthur said with a wistful smile. "My parents saw a lion in mine."

"OMG. That's so cool! What do you mean a year though?"

"Oh, we're not quite sure why all Kardians seem to have the mark. Perhaps it is a side effect of birth. But...oh, I suppose you'd be curious, so I'll tell you. My King had...what was it called again. A great yellowbeak."

"What's that?"

"Oh..." Arthur shook his head. "I read that in this world they call them something else. Hmm...what was it now...an eagle?"

Alfred beamed. That was so awesome! Of course his other self would have an _eagle_ as a soul animal.

"I sound awesome!"

Arthur groaned. "Indeed."

"Stop distracting me!" Alfred said suddenly, realizing they kept going on tangents. He put his hands on Arthur's shoulders, forcing Arthur to face him. "Tell me what's going on!"

Seemingly recalling Alfred's earlier threat, Arthur gave in. "You're aware that this is a different world, a different universe, than my own, correct?"

Alfred nodded, relieved that he was _finally_ beginning to open up, even if Alfred did technically threaten him into it. But he knew that the Queen knew that Alfred would never actually do anything to him without consent. _Especially_ because his own Arthur was a universe away.

But Alfred lived to tease Arthur, so he didn't exactly feel the need to keep Arthur on the same page.

"And that in this world, tangible energy for human use doesn't technically exist? Or at least, you don't feel it?"

Alfred nodded again.

"Well..." Arthur finally turned his clock around for Alfred to see.

The minute hand was on 0:15, or 3 if counting the hour.

"Alfred, I believe..." Arthur coughed, slightly reddening. "I believe that...my Clock has...delegated you my Queen."

* * *

Alfred's jaw dropped.

 _What_?

"The...what?" Alfred began, stumbling over his words. "How could...wha...I thought _you_ were Queen!"

"I am, in my world," Arthur began, frowning as if unsure himself. "But that's the only explanation. Perhaps, in this world that is the complete opposite of mine...perhaps our roles have been reversed. Perhaps I've taken on the role of 'King' and you of 'Queen.' My clock probably got confused. Since I'm bound to Alfred - we swear on the clocks when we marry - perhaps..." Arthur trailed off, muttering to himself.

"But...but I..."

Whatever Alfred had expected, it wasn't _this_. He thought Arthur was just mad at him or something.

"But...how...I didn't sign up for that! And being a Queen is so uncool!"

" _Excuse_ me?" Arthur sputtered, red in the face. "What do you mean _uncool_?"

Oops.

"Sorry," Alfred grinned sheepishly. "You know what I mean. But I still don't get it!"

"Neither do I. But this might be our only chance. If I have the ability to actually use energy in this world, though I don't know how you gave something you don't actually have to me..." Arthur paused. "I might be able to use my magic, if I have enough, to switch us back."

Alfred's eyes widened then. "Wait...really? Arthur can come home?"

"Yes, we can both...go home."

Arthur's smile was bitter as he fidgeted more with his clock until it finally faded from his face altogether.

Alfred knew that his smile masked the pain he felt at being exiled. Alfred had tried to ask Arthur _why_ the King had kicked him out in the first place, but...

Nothing ever seemed to make sense.

Suddenly, Alfred felt strangely protective of the Queen. What if the King didn't want him back? What if, once he got back, he did something _worse_ to Arthur?

Without thinking, Alfred snatched the clock from the Queen's hands.

"You can't!" Alfred declared, hiding the clock behind his back. "I...I can't let you!"

Arthur looked up at him, aghast. "What the...what the bloody hell are you doing?"

"You can't go back!"

"And why not?!"

"It's...it's not a good idea! Can't you just...can't you just talk to him beforehand? Make sure he knows you're coming?"

Arthur gave him a sardonic grin. "Oh, of course. I'll just ring him up with one of those...fones that you have here, let him know I'm coming for a three o'clock tea, shall I?"

"You know what I mean!"

"I can't! I barely even know how to set up a bloody portal, forget setting up some sort of vocal communication!"

"It's not possible?" Alfred asked, his eyes falling. "But...but what if something happens when you go back there, Arthur?" he asked, his voice quieter.

He couldn't bear the thought. Even if it wasn't _his_ Arthur...

"Alfred," Arthur began, his voice gentle. Soft. "I'll be all right. Without Spades, without my job as Queen..."

His eyes were dark, then. A deep, mossy green, like tangled undergrowth.

"I am nothing at all."

* * *

"That's...that's impossible, Arthur. That doesn't make any sense."

"But it does," Arthur said, a small smile on his face. Whether it was proud or sad, Alfred couldn't tell. "You believe that you rule the land, here, don't you? That you _own_ it. But in truth, all energy, all magic, comes from the land. The earth. The sea, the sky, whatever you want to call it."

Alfred nodded, his heart pounding.

This was too unfair. It was too...too _binding_.

"So you're saying that...that if you choose not to be Queen, if you _can't_ be Queen, you...you _die_?"

"It's our fate," Arthur said simply, as if he had given up. "We don't rule the land, Alfred. The land rules _us_."

Alfred was shocked. It was too cruel, too... _inhuman_ , that Alfred had half a mind to take up a sword and _fight_ whatever was binding Arthur to queendom.

"It's not a worry, really. I was prepared, and I knew of my duty as a child. I grew up with stories of the big bad Jokers hunting down lazy Kings and Queens, those who gave up their jobs, and killing them. So I knew my place. I knew what I had to do. I never thought otherwise."

"Why not, though? Didn't you want freedom?"

"Is ruling a kingdom not freedom enough?" Arthur asked, his eyes sharp. "Is guiding your kingdom, your land, your _people_ , not freeing enough?"

"I just mean...and wait. Who are Jokers?"

This _seriously_ was beginning to sound like a life-threatening, demented game of cards.

"We don't actually know," Arthur said thoughtfully. "Manifestations of the will of Kards, I suppose. Nobody has ever seen one, but remiss Kings, Queens, and Aces are always dealt with by...something. We call these forces Jokers. One of them - who we just call the 'white Joker,' or Peter - we gave him a simple name to refer to him by, you see - chooses royalty at birth. The other, the black Joker, or Gilbert - again, another simple name - goes after them if they don't fulfill their duty, so that Peter can choose another."

"So...so they're people?"

This was getting scary _real_ fast.

"Again, I'm not quite sure. They could just be forces. Powerful energy. But I suppose turning them into people for the sake of stories makes them more real. If they're made as concrete, as believable, as possible, young royalty can be herded into the right direction."

"That's...that's so cruel!" Alfred exclaimed indignantly. "You had no choice! That's not fair!"

"I know," Arthur said, his eyes softening. "Thank you. But Alfred and I..." He stopped then, as he always did when he mentioned his King.

"Arthur, I..." Alfred's voice grew softer. "I still don't understand why...the King made you leave."

Arthur stiffened almost immediately.

"Why must we go over this again? I've told you all I know."

"I don't think you have, though," Alfred said, meeting his gaze seriously. "You can trust me, you know?"

Arthur looked down, breaking his gaze and remaining silent.

He hadn't wanted to make Arthur look like that. Queen or not, he wanted to embrace him, he wanted to let him know that everything would be okay, he wanted to...to _protect_ him, to fight whatever was hurting him. He _needed_ to. But he couldn't do anything if the Queen didn't even trust him enough to tell him.

"I..." Arthur opened his mouth hesitantly, then closed it again. "He...he's been cold, lately. You know that."

"Yeah, you told me he was a psycho." Alfred said plainly, though he couldn't imagine himself as a crazy person.

"I didn't say that," Arthur chided gently. "Just that he's..." Arthur made a vague gesture in the air. "Changed, lately. He's not how he used to be. He's more...harsh. Cold, like I said. He seems a bit uncaring, and I..." Arthur paused. "I can't..."

Was Arthur going to _cry_? Oh, no, he didn't mean to do that to him...

He was just about to interrupt, to say that it was okay, to say that he didn't have to reveal any more, when Arthur finally spoke again.

"I can't give him magic anymore. My energy. I only truly realized it after coming back here. Not only did my magic dwindle during my last days in Spades, but also I...am no longer able to...it means that I..."

Arthur _did_ let his mask fall then, his eyes heartbreakingly empty.

"I lost my connection with him. He shut himself off to me, and I to him, and...and now it's all gone."

* * *

 _In the kingdom of Spades..._

 _"Alfred," came a gentle voice, calling him with a hint of mirth. "Alfred, this way."_

 _He followed, just a boy then, yet unmarried._

 _"You've never seen the castle, right? I'll show it to you."_

 _A hint of pride._

 _A pride in his castle, in his kingdom, that never wavered._

 _The blindfold on his eyes was beginning to become irritating, but he trusted Arthur, **loved** Arthur, even if Arthur refused to accept it. Yet._

 _"Okay, okay. Are we there yet?"_

 _He heard Arthur laugh._

 _When Arthur used to laugh, so easily, so happily._

 _"This way, Alfred."_

 _He loved the way Arthur said his name. He wanted to hear it forever._

 _He felt the Queen finally let go of his hand, and his heart dropped. He felt lost. Where was he? Where was Arthur? But soon, the blindfold came off, and he saw._

 _He was in the gardens with Arthur, under an arch wreathed in red roses, red and white chrysanthemums, and bundles of hydrangeas._

 _"They grew for our future," Arthur said, his voice soft, thoughtful. "Love, long life, joy..." He looked at Alfred, his eyes sparkling. "They change every generation, you know. To predict each union's future. For us..."_

 _Hydrangeas...what were hydrangeas, again?_

"Alfred, how many Cards are there?"

The King woke up with a start, blinking rapidly. "Wha...what?"

Arthur gave him a curious glance. "You mean to tell me that you were _asleep_ the entire time I was reviewing with you everything I wanted clarification on?"

To be fair, Arthur's nose was in the book the entire time. But Alfred normally never dozed off like that.

He cleared his throat, feeling ashamed. "Sorry about that. I just..."

For some reason, he just...he just had hydrangeas stuck in his head.

"Do you happen to know the meaning of hydrangeas?"

Arthur stared at him. "H-Hydrangeas? Are they significant in Spades? I haven't read about them -"

"No, they aren't," Alfred said with a dismissive wave. "Forget it."

"Hydrangeas are...heartfelt emotions, are they not? Understanding, gratitude, things like that," Arthur said, thinking. "But I suppose they could also mean heartlessness. Coldness. Words of that sort."

Alfred stared at him, eyes slightly wide. "Really?"

"Yes, but..." Arthur frowned. "I fail to see what this has to do with anything."

"No, it's...nothing," Alfred said. "Forget it."

Heartlessness? Coldness? Those suited his Queen the best.

So those flowers that day really _did_ mean something. He chuckled darkly to himself.

But he couldn't stop the feeling of intense sorrow as he listened to this Arthur, this Arthur that had nothing against him and that was...well, happy in his world.

"You sure know a lot," Alfred said finally.

"Yes, as I have nothing else to do here," Arthur sighed, though Alfred took note of his snarky remark.

Arthur seemed to sense that he really hadn't been paying attention, and walked over to him, putting his notebook on Alfred's desk.

"Alfred...would you mind telling me more about what you said earlier?"

"What did I say?"

"About..." Arthur paused, reluctant. "About not being good enough."

Well, if anything, this Arthur wasn't subtle. At _all_. Not like his Queen, so charming, seductive, able to lie through his teeth, able to manipulate anyone he wanted in the kingdom, at court...hell, the whole _world_ if he wanted to. He'd tricked Alfred, too, and was probably having his way with the other Alfred right now...

Alfred felt deeply pained at the thought, before a deep, dark anger took over.

But the Arthur in front of him was none of the sort. Well, he certainly was witty, and charming in his own way, but...he was more straightforward. He didn't beat around the bush, and always faced what was coming to him.

Well, he'd reward him for that.

Even if it hurt.

For what did pain mean to him anymore, anyway?

"I was never good enough to be King," Alfred said detachedly. "Hell, things would be a lot better if I _wasn't_. My Queen knows that, like I told you before. It's his fault, anyway. And mine."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. The same, thick eyebrows of his Queen that Alfred had made fun of countless times, just to see him blush. Just to see him angry. He was cute, then.

But it didn't take a lift of his finger to make his Queen angry nowadays.

"But...why?" Arthur pressed.

He was so much more...forgiving. So much more open. He _listened_ to Alfred, he was...finally...

 _Finally_ , there was someone, there was _Arthur_ , on his side.

"I..." He got up from his chair, making his way over to Arthur, his eyes wells of sorrow. "I...I wanted it, you know. When I was a kid. But I couldn't have it. Arthur _knew_ , but he gave it to me anyway, and I..."

"Wait, what do you mean by that? He...he couldn't have just _given_ it to you, you have the mark -"

"Do I?" Alfred asked bitterly, a self-deprecating smile on his face. "Do you never wonder, Arthur, about my eyesight?"

"Your...eyesight?"

"You told me before that your Alfred wears glasses."

"Yes, but just because he does -"

Arthur stopped then, looking up at Alfred with wide eyes. Alfred knew he saw something click.

He wondered when Arthur would begin to look at him with pity. With disgust.

With _hate_.

"I'm assuming you have contacts in your world by that look," Alfred said, pained at the thought that this revelation would cost him not only Arthur's budding affection, but his kingdom, his entire rule. He looked around, making sure nobody else had entered the study, that the door was closed, that everything was shut off, locked, in place.

"It really wasn't a big deal for Arthur to imprint a Spades mark on my left contact."


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello everyone! Thank you for your patience, and thank you for taking the time to read this story up until now._

 _Please let me know your thoughts, and don't forget to review! =)_

* * *

 _It wasn't really a big deal for Arthur to imprint a Spades mark on my left contact._

Alfred's words rang through Arthur's mind as silence seeped into the room, both gazing into the other's eyes. Though Arthur held Alfred's gaze, Arthur's mind was elsewhere, flooded with thoughts he couldn't understand. Thoughts that attacked the Queen, thoughts that questioned Alfred, that poisoned his mind against the King, thoughts that ran side by side with feelings of confusion, of sorrow, even of _understanding_.

So Alfred was not meant to be King. In fact, all of Alfred's self-deprecation and loathing arose out of him taking what was not his.

And the Queen had lied for him, lied to the entire continent that Alfred was the true king when he was _not_.

Already the guilt Arthur knew Alfred felt flooded his mind, his heart, every cell in his body, and he could see that Alfred understood it too, seeing his sorrowful expression reflected in Alfred's face. But it was accompanied by confusion, of why Arthur would take such a risk, for what _cause_? Had the Queen made his decision on his own? Or did Alfred...

"It's my fault," Alfred said quietly, resignation in his voice. "Arthur suggested we fake the mark, but I was the one who wanted to be King."

"You...you asked him to make you King?" Arthur knew he had to tread carefully. He didn't want to place blame on anyone until he fully understood the situation. Even then, could blame really exist?

"I wanted to be King," Alfred repeated. "I...I wanted to do it. I wanted...I _needed_..."

Alfred's eyes drifted to the door again, and Arthur shook his head reassuringly.

"You've locked the door. The walls are soundproof. Go on, l-go on, Alfred." Arthur barely caught himself from tacking on "love," one of his affectionate names for Alfred. How could he already be considering this Alfred even _remotely_ similar to his own? He wanted to slap himself.

It was a mistake he could not afford to make.

"I...I can't," Alfred said suddenly, almost as if there was surprise in his voice. "I..." He made a gesture with his arms, as if he were trying to grasp something. "The...it's like..." He frowned, puzzled, as he opened and closed his mouth.

"Are you...are you all right?" Arthur asked, stepping closer to Alfred. "If you really can't right now, I-"

"No! No, it's...it's like I can't." Alfred looked up at him finally, honest confusion in his eyes. "I...I _know_ what it is, but when I try to say it, I forget what it is."

" _What?_ How can you just _forget_ what it is?"

"That's what I don't understand!" Alfred exclaimed, scratching his head. "I _know_ it, I just..."

"Go slowly," Arthur suggested. "Let's start from your mark. The Queen forged it."

 _And so you are not the true King_.

But Arthur couldn't say such cruel words aloud, and so he left it for Alfred to fill in.

Alfred nodded.

"And you said you wanted to be King, and you asked him."

"I didn't ask him."

Arthur waited for him to continue.

"He ma..." Alfred fell silent again, frowning.

"He made you King?"

He could see Alfred's head shift slightly, but he seemed to be struggling with something. He clutched his head suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut as if he were in pain.

"Alfred! Alfred, what's wrong? I'm...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No! No, you...no, it's...ugh, what _is_ this?!" Alfred stared up at Arthur hopelessly. "It's like I'm under some sort of spell!"

Silence fell once again as understanding dawned in both of their eyes.

"Alfred, is it possible that..."

"...the Queen lay a spell on me to prevent me from revealing or fully remembering how I came to be king?" Alfred filled in, sparks of anger like venom in his voice. "And this probably isn't the first time he's done something like this, either. Only the Jokers know what other spells I'm under. Maybe you're just an illusion that-"

A loud _smack_ sounded in the room, followed by another stunned silence.

Before Arthur knew what he was doing, he had smacked Alfred hard across the cheek, anger pulsing through his veins as he fixed Alfred with a harsh glare.

"You...you always believe the _worst_ of him, don't you?!"

For Arthur could see now that Alfred's guilt, his lack, his void had poisoned everything around him, pushed everyone away and warping his love into a constant insecurity, a constant need to be assured that he _was_ a good King, because he was not meant to be one.

But at the same time, it was not that simple. It could _never_ be that simple, and Arthur knew it.

"You're a fool," Arthur said, looking down. His voice was steadier and quiet, but firm. "Did it never occur to you that he wanted to protect you? That he wanted to make it so that you'd never have to relive that, so that you'd never accidentally blurt out what would lead to your destruction?"

Arthur himself didn't even understand why he so passionately defended the Queen. He didn't understand why he felt a weird sense of understanding at the Queen's actions.

He looked at Alfred again after that, but it was Alfred's turn to look away, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

Suddenly, Arthur pressed his palm to Alfred's cheek, and Alfred met his gaze again, surprised. Arthur felt a tingling on the skin of his palm that ran down his arm to the rest of his body, but it didn't hurt like before.

"Am I an illusion?"

"You're pretty real."

Arthur thought he caught a wisp of a smile then.

"Do you think I'd be able to write it?" Alfred asked, as he slowly took Arthur's hand in his own and held it between them. He was gentle, not clinging to Arthur but not letting him go, a safe balance that actually made Arthur feel more secure.

"I'd think your Queen would be smarter than that," Arthur said, taking Alfred's other hand in his own.

"Then," the King said, a small, hesitant smile on his face, "would you..."

"Mind trying to break the spell?"

Arthur squeezed Alfred's hands, grinning as he felt a crackle of magic.

"I've been waiting all day, Your Highness."

* * *

 _Present day, United States._

Well, if the Queen ever had to explain how he'd gotten into _this_ situation, he'd be, surprisingly, at a lack for the words he so cherished.

His hat was strewn across the floor, too far away for him to easily reach. And even if he _could_ , well...he was a bit preoccupied.

For Alfred's arms were tight around him, and the Queen had fallen with his back on the bed, Alfred warm and heavy above him.

He was _hugging_ him. The King's look-alike - _no_ , Alfred of the United States - had his arms around him, and Arthur was crying, and this was all just _so wrong_ -

"Arthur, I-"

"Alf..." he began, but his voice was too soft, breathy, and he lost it all too quickly, his eyes wide in panic. For he didn't know how to handle it, he _couldn't_ handle this, something he didn't deserve and had wanted, had _needed_ so badly, with all the sorrow and guilt and love that had come with it. For one of the first times in his life, he was utterly paralyzed, and the influx of energy from Alfred, his supposed "queen," really wasn't helping.

Not to mention he had broken down in front of him. And was _crying_.

It was shameful, and horrible, and this was not meant to happen, and...

"It's okay."

Alfred was above him now, resting on his forearms as he studied Arthur, his blue eyes suddenly too bright, too piercing, too much to handle. Arthur turned his head away, wanting to sink into the bed, _anything_ but this humiliation that scarred not only his own name, but that of Spades, but Alfred would not let him. He gently guided Arthur's face back towards his own, forcing him to meet his eyes.

"No, you don't get to do that." His tone was firm, sure of himself, as if...almost as if he were King, and the Queen was bound to obey him.

But Arthur was still too shocked, too overwhelmed to protest, and continued to stare at him as Alfred continued.

"I know you must be feeling horrible right now. Scared, shocked, and not knowing what to do. As much as you've tried to cover it these past few weeks, I can see how hard you've been struggling."

And to have his feelings, his thoughts, _read_ to him in this manner and spoken aloud, in words, made tangible and _real_ and oh _why_ was he talking like this and exposing everything? He hated it, he hated the idea of being _bare_ , of being transparent, after he had worked so hard to hide...

"You...know nothing," the Queen began, but his voice was weak and he didn't mean it and both of them knew it.

"I know a lot about you, Arthur. I mean, after being with my Arthur for two years, I think it's fair to say I know _more_ than a lot."

 _my Arthur_.

"Well, I'm not _your_ Arthur," the Queen hissed, regaining his strength as he pushed on Alfred's chest. His tears had finally ceased as cold anger replaced them, a change Arthur welcomed.

 _Anything_ was better than weakness. Humiliation.

And this was a reminder of his place. Of the meaningless of all of _this_ , of hoping for anything, of yearning to be in Alfred's arms one more time. To be free to love him beyond reason and beyond law.

The Queen suddenly laughed bitterly, covering his eyes with the back of his hand as he did.

He wasn't worthy for _either_ of them now.

* * *

 _The Kingdom of Spades_

"Seriously, never call me that again."

"Hmm?" Arthur looked up from a spell book, his eyes slightly glazed over the way they always were when he just tore his eyes away from the page he was immersed in.

"'Your Highness.' It just felt...wrong."

Arthur smirked. "What would you prefer? Royal Fool?"

"Alfred," he said, and Arthur's heart leaped as he thought he saw the beginning of a pout on the king's face. "Were you able to find anything yet?"

They had been in the library for a couple of hours, holding hands intermittently to give Alfred energy. Of course, it was a bit awkward and flustering for Arthur, who had to grow used to the tingling sensation, but there was no more outright pain.

Alfred had told him that the palms were the best place, and since Arthur felt more tingling, he assumed that Alfred was right.

"So besides you having enough magic, I think I might have to do some more work," Arthur said, flipping to some pages he had bookmarked. Two books lay open on a nearby table with tiny notes in each. "Right. So according to this tome, reversing the spell of blockage and silence requires a lot of effort on your part, but...I think I have to channel the energy somehow. Not to mention some incantations that you have to hear."

Although he _did_ want to help Alfred as soon as possible, he couldn't help but be excited over the prospect of getting to use _actual_ magic, the magic he had dreamed of as a child.

Alfred nodded. "I don't really know a lot of magic other than what is used offensively, and even then I tend to ask my Queen for advice before I use it. But since you have magic and technically the Queen's position, I think..."

Alfred stopped.

Arthur closed his book and looked at him. "You think?"

"Shit."

"What is it?"

"You don't have his clock."

"The..."

Alfred pulled his clock out of his coat, the hour hand firmly facing Arthur and the minute hand at 10 minutes. Alfred's eyes widened. "Well, shit."

"Yeah?"

"No, nothing. The issue," he continued, looking at Arthur again, "is that you don't have your clock. So even if you _could_ reverse the spell, you can't."

Arthur paused. The books had said nothing about the clocks. He'd assumed that they were just markers of royalty, with a few helpful features, but...

"Have you ever tried otherwise? Has the Queen ever performed magic without his clock?" What did the clock even _do,_ anyway? To Arthur's understanding, it seemed to help in indicating magic or in channeling it from one mass to another, but he never really had the impression that it was _necessary_ to perform anything. If so, only the royalty would be able to use magic, but he'd _definitely_ read about commoners and some of what they called "Numbers" having special abilities.

"I don't think so. He plays by the rules...most of the time. But I don't remember him laying this curse on me, so I was either asleep when he did, or he somehow didn't use his clock. But I don't know how he would do..."

"The Ace?" Arthur offered, following his train of thought.

For the Ace was known to be wise, was known to have access to hidden arts and magic, and most of all, most definitely did not have his own clock.

"We need to find our Ace."

* * *

 _Present day, United States._

The Queen sat in the corner of the room, forcing his arms on the armrests, his feet even on the floor, when all he wanted to do was scrunch up into a ball.

Alfred was silent, for once, sitting on the bed with his back towards Arthur.

In rejection, surely. Or maybe just thought.

He turned around slowly, an unsure expression on his face, his shoulders hunched over.

"I'm sorry."

Arthur met his gaze, frowning slightly.

"I...I didn't mean to break you like that. I just..." Alfred waved his hands around, frustrated, as if trying to grasp something. "I just...I need you to understand..."

"You didn't _break_ me. Don't think so highly of yourself." His words were cold, but the tone was warm, and Alfred smiled slightly as Arthur continued.

"If you really wish to know of the nature of the relationship between myself and the King as of late..."

Arthur paused. It seemed all of his shame from before was pulsing deep beneath the surface, but he couldn't feel it strongly, as if all of the anger from before had numbed it. Which was good, he supposed, as he'd actually be able to use words like a civilized being. Like the Queen and gentleman he was.

"As you know, we've had our struggles. But I've been..." Arthur waved his hand vaguely. "Busy, as of late, and my magic has been running out." He took out his clock and found that the minute hand had moved again, this time to 15 minutes. His eyes widened slightly, and Alfred's gaze drifted down to the clock.

"I guess I am your Queen, huh."

"Yes," Arthur chuckled, putting it away again. "Anyway. But the connection between us was still _there_ , still palpable, and I could send whatever energy I created directly to him. But in the weeks before I left..."

Arthur looked away.

"The connection was broken. I couldn't feel him at all. It was as if...I don't know, as if he had cut me off. I saw his body, and could feel heat, but..." Arthur frowned. "There was no _energy_ there. It was just...it was too physical. Too cold. As if he was just a body, rather than a living, breathing being."

Alfred frowned. "Can you...can you cut off the connection so easily like that?"

"I don't think it's possible to cut it off on purpose," Arthur said, pausing. "It would just have to _be_ broken on its own. Break itself."

"So the connection just...but wait, does that mean like, just for magic, or...?"

"What's the difference?" Arthur laughed, a sad smile on his face. "When you connect with someone, when you _love_ someone, you automatically feel their energy whether you realize it or not. You affect them, and they affect you. My King has built his wall so high that..."

Alfred stood up and sat down in a chair next to Arthur, sitting sideways so that he was fully facing him.

"That...forget his Queen, he can no longer connect with any other. He's a princess in a tower, so to speak, and..."

Arthur shivered suddenly, looking down as he clenched his hands, digging his nails into the cushion of the chair.

But _why?_ What on earth would have caused his King to...

It couldn't be _that_. Arthur had reassured him so many times, even putting a small spell on him to make sure the memories don't come up unwanted, trying to destroy his guilt and take it all for himself...

"Alfred, I..."

He needed to fix this. His King...his King was a blathering mess, surely, but he'd never be so...so stubborn, so _childish_ , so unreasonable as to push away Arthur with no explanation. He was tired of placing all of the blame on his king, as if he had suddenly gone mad. Arthur knew, deep down, that the pain was still there, the pain from his coronation, and that no matter what Arthur did he could never undo it all. No matter how much he hid, no matter how much he lied, over and over and over, the wedge between them only grew deeper.

But he knew that Alfred knew it too, that there was nothing to be done. He knew that Alfred's laugh was fake as he declared he did not care what fate or the Jokers wanted, that _his_ reassuring _Arthur_ on their wedding night was tinged with doubt and likely delusion.

The Queen's next words only cut him deeply and brought him pain, but he knew he had to say it.

"Alfred, I need your help."

* * *

 _The Kingdom of Diamonds._

"And why would I know where your Ace is?"

The King of Diamonds, Francis, lounged on his throne, resting his arms at ease on the chair's arms. His scruffy beard, tired expression, and empty cups strewn over a table next to the throne suggested Francis was more than a bit overwhelmed. His Queen was nowhere in sight - not that Francis let Queen Lili make any major decisions, anyway. Or participate much in politics.

"You can find out," Alfred pointed out, Arthur in the Queen's attire by his side.

But Arthur faded in and out of the conversation as he stared at Francis, took in the opulent golden jewels and suit and ruffles - oh yes, Francis loved his ruffles - and the yellow roses and gems strewn across the ground just below the throne. He took in the way Francis spoke, no longer in a French accent as Arthur was accustomed to, but in a similarly lilting and charming manner, such that if King Francis' jewels and attire did not draw the eye, his voice and charisma would.

Arthur was hit by a familiar pang of loneliness, though, as he realized that this Francis too was different, as Alfred was. That this Francis was older, did not smile, had a cold, calculating look in his eyes that almost repulsed Arthur. And Arthur realized that this Francis would not throw kisses as greetings, would not purposely use French to annoy him, would not take care of him while complaining all the while after a long night out, and would not banter with him without actually trying to hurt him.

"And what does Queen Arthur think?"

Arthur snapped his gaze up to Francis' eyes, and he thought he caught a glint of familiarity - as if Francis believed he was actually the Queen - before his gaze turned harsh. "But you are not the Queen. You have lied to me, Alfred."

 _All it took was a look._

Alfred frowned, acting offended.

Arthur didn't know what possessed him, but he suddenly stepped forward before Alfred could reach for him, kneeling before Francis without breaking his gaze.

"You're correct. I'm not the Queen. Which is why we need your help. Because our King here," Arthur said, standing up and gesturing to Alfred. "Made a big mistake. And I'm afraid we need more than the two of us to fix it."

He really didn't mind slighting Alfred to pique the King's interest.

King Francis studied the two of them before nodding slightly. "I thought something like this might happen. Alas," he said, with a dramatic wave of his hand that reminded Arthur of his Francis, "I believed you two would be better than this. But you have proven me wrong."

"Won't be the first time," Alfred muttered, and Francis pretended he didn't hear it.

"We need your help to find our Ace..." Arthur began, trying to remember his name.

"Ace Yao."

"Yes, Ace Yao. He'll know how to use magic without clocks."

"And why do you want to use magic? You, a mere shadow of the Queen?"

Arthur felt a bit stung from that backhanded comment, before confusion washed over him.

"Pardon?"

Francis tilted his head slightly before standing, pressing two fingers without warning to the space between Arthur's eyebrows.

"Hm."

"E-Excuse me, _what_ are you -"

"Hey, Francis, knock it off," Alfred began, seemingly as startled as Arthur was.

"Ah-ha," Francis finally said, lowering his hand as he looked at Arthur curiously. "So you really _are_ Arthur. Just not the Queen."

"Yes. I'm not a _shadow_ , or whatever you want to call it."

"How curious," Francis mused, looking from Arthur to the King. "So...where is your Queen, King of Spades?"

"I..." Alfred began, looking down before exchanging a glance with Arthur. Arthur gave a slight nod.

"He's sick, so I-" Alfred's voice was low, feigning confidence, as he probably spoke formally as King, yet it was not enough for Francis.

"Do not build a kingdom of lies, Alfred," Francis cut him off sharply, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "Do not lie to me, nor to your partner kingdom. You should know better, even at your age."

 _Even at your age._ The jab at Alfred's inexperience did not go unnoticed, with Alfred's eyes growing cold and dark.

"I sent him away for his health," Alfred said. "He was unwilling, so I forced him. I used his magic against him. I kidnapped him, forced him into a circle of his own making, and banished him."

His words were icy, sending shivers down Arthur's spine.

Francis looked pained for a moment, with a flare of what seemed like anger in his eyes, before he ultimately composed himself and simply looked disappointed.

"This is the solution you arrive at?"

Francis let out a large sigh, sitting down heavily on his throne again, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache.

"So you cavort with...who is this?"

"I ended up with him. Not part of the plan."

"And what _was_ the plan, Alfred?" Francis countered, his eyes fixed on Alfred. "You just banished a _queen_ of the land away in the midst of riots, revolts, and Joker knows what else, and after countless displays of callous ineptitude you expect me to want to help you?"

"I won't ask again, Francis. I need my Ace. What has Arthur done with him?" Alfred's voice was dangerously low, his fists tightened by his side. "You mock me and my actions, yet you know nothing of our kingdom's circumstances, nor have you offered to help despite the," Alfred paused, gesturing to the jewels and flowers carelessly on the floor by the throne and along the walls, "immense wealth you seem to retain." Alfred turned his gaze to Arthur. "As you realized, he's the Arthur of a different time and world. Somehow the clock dragged Arthur back to me, just not the Queen. But we have more pressing issues."

Francis tilted his head slightly. "Than the pillar of your kingdom being banished by the one who needs him most?"

Alfred looked hurt at that; unable to mask it, he let out a chilling, mocking laugh as rebuttal. "Just as you need Queen Lili, yeah? Where is she to even greet us?"

Francis stiffened.

"You will leave Lili out of this, or you will leave my kingdom."

This was getting nowhere. Arthur suppressed a groan, knowing he'd have to betray Alfred slightly to get anywhere with this very undiplomatic meeting.

"King Francis," Arthur began, ignoring Alfred's pointed looks to stay silent and let Alfred speak. "We apologize for our...accidental aggressions. But we've discovered a problem that we need to fix for Spades to survive. I am not the Queen of Spades and am much out of my realm of experience, but..." Arthur paused. "I need to learn how to use magic without a clock. And for that, we need to find Ace Yao, who has apparently gone missing. Al-King Alfred has told me that the Queen knew where Ace Yao was but refused to tell the King. We were hoping that, being partner kingdoms, you may have heard a hint as to where the Ace is."

Francis nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I have heard that Yao is gone. In fact, the Queen himself let me know. Alas, only the Queen knows where Yao is hidden and the Queen seemed quite adamant for it to remain that way."

Beside Arthur, Alfred's face fell.

"But the Ace of Spades is not the only one who can teach you magic without clocks, dear Arthur," Francis said with a smile as he reached out a hand to Arthur.

"Care for a lesson?"


End file.
